


breathing life in the dust on a countdown to zero

by xxcaribbean



Category: One Direction (Band), Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Sexual Content, Supernatural Elements, Wing Kink, ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 09:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 47,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2062305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxcaribbean/pseuds/xxcaribbean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>death is supposed to be permanent. at least, that’s what zayn thought. so when liam, a former patient of his, ends up defying those odds, zayn’s left questioning everything he knows. or simply put, the story where a doctor falls in love with a ghost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	breathing life in the dust on a countdown to zero

_Beep.... beep.. beep. be-_

Two days, five hours, and thirty six minutes ago, Zayn should've been praying for a miracle.

Because as he sits in the back of the little church in the very last pew closest to the doors that enter into the lobby and exit the sanctuary, he thinks this must be his punishment for not doing enough. He's also pretty sure he's got a sign on his forehead that says _killer,_ where everyone can see the exact sin he should be repenting for.

Except no one knows he's here, and no one realizes who he is aside from the family that is currently at the front of the church, standing behind a small wooden podium where they're giving their last goodbye to the one person they thought would live longer than a good majority of the people in the room.

The will to leave tightens its hold on his chest.

A shiver runs down Zayn's spine, and he takes that has his cue to finally withdraw. He shouldn't have come here, and the only reason he had, had been from pure selfishness, to see if showing up would somehow make things slightly better on his guilty conscious. But so far, the only thing this journey has done for him is made him feel so much more like an outsider and the feeling like he's being watched from every angle.

Zayn leaves the first chance he gets.

He tries to be quiet while exiting the sanctuary because the service is still going and he'd hate to cause another inconvenience towards the family that is grieving. As soon as the door shuts behind him, he lets out a shaky breathe and runs his hands over his face. The doors to the parking lot are calling his name but Zayn just stands there and watches instead, can't understand why his feet won't move in the right direction.

He doesn't belong here, that much is clear, and he'd made a dire mistake in thinking that this would make up for his wrongdoings.

"Dr. Malik?"

He startles at his name, turns on his heel and finds the older woman exiting the very same door he'd come out of.

"Please, call me Zayn," he requests. This isn't a time to be formal, and he lacks the knowledge he needs in order to address this situation correctly. It's been so long since Zayn's been to a funeral, and for all he knows, this woman is out here to reprimand him more than show him kindness. After all, Zayn would say she has a fair amount of reason to.

"Are you leaving, Zayn?" She stresses her tone when she says his name, though not out of anger as he thought she would've. Instead it sounds more pitiful, slightly gentle in a way that Zayn is not too happy with.

"Planning on it," he remarks quickly. He's not sharp; there's no room for that kind of attitude here right now but as he's figured before, showing his face was a horrible idea.

"Oh, well, the service is just wrapping up now," she explains, pointing behind her. "They'll be doing the viewing before we head on over to the cemetery. Would you like to join us?"

Zayn sucks in a mouthful of air and holds it tightly until he begins to feel the sting of not letting it out. Only when he releases it through his nose does he answer the woman before him. "Mrs. Payne, I really shouldn't be here anyway, and I've already imposed on something quite..." he trails off because he's lost the right word to use. Family-oriented gathering wouldn't really be the right terminology to use at a funeral seeing as one member of said family isn't among the living, and he can't necessarily use personal either because there are plenty of people in that room who probably weren't as good friends with the family as anyone would like to believe and were only here to show their support instead.

Which essentially just enlightens Zayn to the fact that maybe he's welcome here after all, but the question is _why?_ Especially after what he'd done.

"Nonsense," she chastises him. "You may have been Liam's doctor but you made him extremely happy while he was in the hospital."

He wants to protest at those words. Zayn would very much like to argue and berate this mother for saying such a thing because how in the world had he made Liam happy? Zayn had made Liam _dead_ , if anything, and it'd be such a naive thing to believe otherwise.

But Zayn keeps his mouth shut and doesn't bother saying another word because he doesn't trust himself to say anything else.

"I won't push you, but you're welcome nonetheless." And she leaves him with that, and whether she read Zayn's mind and his internal battle with himself, he doesn't know, but as soon as she's slipped back through the door, Zayn's able to breathe another sigh of relief.

Instead of him leaving as he had wanted to before, he spends his time in the main area of the room, finds a leather love seat to sit on and patiently waits until people exit the church. No one comes to talk to him after that, either he's so far in the corner of the room that they don't pay him much attention or they've truly no clue who he is.

So Zayn waits by himself until the area is mostly clear, where a few people are gathered about, talking with one another - no doubt about Liam - and that's when Zayn decides to slip back into the main room. It's a bad idea, he knows, but something's been keeping him here, and the guilt from Liam's mother talking to him had only further convinced him to go through with the reason he'd come here in the first place.

There's only a small group of people near the casket. An elderly woman who's leaning over it and probably whispering words she hopes Liam can hear despite the fact that there is no soul left, and two younger women, Liam's sisters, Zayn recalls, having met them briefly before when the older man had been in the hospital.

He waits patiently for his turn, licks his lips, tugs on his collar and rests his hand against the back of one of the church pews to keep himself steady as he waits. Zayn refuses to look at the casket just yet, can already see the cold body lying on silk, white pillows that looks ashier than normal. Rather, Zayn focuses his eyes on anything else for the time being. There are large stained glass windows with various pictures in the frames from stories he's not too familiar with. There's also bibles placed about on the seats, hymn books too that are probably so out of date that only an older generation knows the words to.

And when he feels a hand on his shoulder, he flinches at the touch before his gaze is met with a warm smile from red lips and blonde hair. He doesn't know her name, but she's the sister and the other one is standing just behind her.

"Thank you," she says before offering him another smile. It's weaker than the one before; she looks tired, older than her age because of the bags under her eyes and the redness the stains them too. The other young woman, Zayn notices, nods her head in acknowledgement before they're walking down the aisle and leaving Zayn in an empty room save for Liam and what's left of him on earth.

He breathes his deep, and Zayn thinks it's cruel to do that. To suck down so much air and feel it expanding his lungs when there's a body in the room who'd been able to do the same as he had at one point in time, yet Zayn feels like he's suffocating. He's hesitant to even walk forward, but eventually he gathers the courage to do so while adding a glance over his shoulder to see if anyone's either still in the room or about to enter. And when he finds no one, Zayn continues walking so he can take his place an arm's length away from the moment he'd come here for.

Only, it's definitely not what he expected and only a mere reminder of everything Zayn and an innocent family have been through the past two days, when Liam had been warm on the operating table, so very alive until he wasn't.

"Oh, god," Zayn chokes out. He backs up until his legs hit the first row of benches where he collapses, sitting on the hard wood and staring forward, trying to regain his composure. "I'm so sorry," he admits, regardless of the fact that he's talking to literally nothing but decaying flesh that can't hear him anymore. "I'm sorry."

The pounding in his head only intensifies the longer he sits there, hands curled into fists where they rest in his lap. And despite the fact that he's alone and has the perfect opportunity to release his thoughts, he can't get them out. His throat is tight and dry and the room feels too warm for his liking. Before long, Zayn has to convince himself to be done with this, all the while managing to stand regardless of the fact that he feels frazzled and spastic. That pull from earlier is telling him to leave, but another is dragging him forward so that he's standing near the casket again.

Before he really knows what he's doing, Zayn's suddenly reaching out for Liam's hand where his skin makes contact with the cold flesh of another. And the flashback comes soon after, taking Zayn by surprise.

He deals with them as they come, split seconds of what had happened in that hospital room carving themselves along his eyelids as he squeezes them shut.

Liam had made a reach for Zayn's hand. The anesthetic had apparently worn off, and his fingers had curled so tightly around Zayn's. He'd had a dazed look in his eye, one way too far away for Zayn's liking, and the beeping of the machines and the sound of people yelling had Zayn freezing on the spot. He'd felt hands on him, ordering him to do something, to keep their patient from flat-lining but he could only stare down and try his best to put Liam back together before he left the world.

He'd been too late; he hadn't done his job, the one thing... _the one god damn thing he'd been meant to do._

Zayn had failed not only himself, but most importantly he had failed Liam.

He'd been Zayn's first death.

He gasps, and his eyes flutter open where his gaze meets Liam's face that is too perfectly painted for anyone of human stature. The makeup is enhanced, and a little too white, lips too blue with a hint of red to at least give him the decency to look halfway normal, as if death hadn't hit him hard enough.

Zayn can still feel the faint, lively fingertips of Liam's hand as it had slipped from his grip, grazed his skin as it fell by the wayside when he'd been pronounced dead. At that point, Zayn couldn't stand to be in the same room, so he'd left, walked out of the operation room and found the nearest wall to lean up against until he'd slid to the floor with heavy sobs wracking his body.

"Liam." His free hand covers his mouth because it quivers, and he can't help the faint amount of tears that gather in his eyes. He'd been trained for this, to be able to handle death so easily in case it ever happened to him, but this...

Zayn doesn't know if he can go on.

He ends up standing there for quite a bit longer, letting time pass by slowly. Zayn's not sure if he should be freaked out by the fact that as of late he's become fascinated with death. It'd been such a simple, faraway thing days ago, but he'd looked it directly in the face, had seen the outcome that no doctor wishes to experience.

The sound of the door opening behind him has Zayn quickly removing his hand from Liam's, where he shoves it into his slack's pocket of the suit he'd decided to adorn. He figures it's the men who've come back inside to close the casket and eventually carry it out to the hearse where the inevitable burial will happen. So Zayn takes that as his cue to give Liam one last look, a mantra of apologies on the tip of his tongue, but are better used for the silent prayer going off in his head in hopes that one day in his future he'll be forgiven for an act he's sorely convinced he's committed.

And when Zayn finally hears the shuffle of people moving their way to the front of the room, Zayn finally pulls away completely, turning his back on Liam and walking past everyone so he can exit the church for what he hopes to be the last time in his life.

x.x.x.x

He ends up drowning his emotions in a bottle of wine. The bottle’s nearly gone but he pays it no mind until he's ready for another sip, not having bothered to use a glass.

Zayn's suit is scattered around the bedroom floor. His shirt is unbuttoned, pants pulled off and thrown near the door of the bathroom while his tie hangs around his neck. If anyone were to happen upon him now, they'd probably shake their head in pity and make him go to bed, but Zayn can't do that, not when his eyes are alight by the fire that comes from the fireplace. He's sitting in front of it while watching the flames dance, needing it to warm up his chilled bedroom but also distract himself with the way his memories have eaten up every thought he's had today.

The flames, he sees, burn bright orange and red, licking up the air before settling down once again. It's truly a beautiful sight to see and before Zayn knows what he's doing, slowed down by the weight of the alcohol in his blood, he's reaching out a hand in order to touch it. The fire can't hurt that much, especially not after what he's been through today.

Hazel eyes blink lazily and scoot forward towards the heat, and just as Zayn thinks he's about to catch a bit of it within his hand, something stops him from going any further. His hand is held in its place, fingers just inches from touching the flame, where they begin to heat up from the fire his body is so close to, feeling the warmth that radiates from it.

And Zayn swears, as he looks down at his outstretched arm, there's a hand wrapped tightly around his wrist. He thinks there might be bruises there in the morning but as he looks closer, the thick fingers aren't actually touching him, but instead hovering just inches above his skin.

Zayn blinks, hoping that will clear his vision and keep him from seeing things that aren't there, but as he opens his eyes, flickering his gaze upwards, he finds a figure sat just beside the fire, crouched and staring up at Zayn with wide eyes, tongue poking out from behind pink lips and a warning sign that has Zayn pulling back. His eyes narrow as he continues staring and there's got to be some reasonable explanation for what he's seeing; he _must've_ drunk more than his fair share of wine than he thought possible because this, this has his heart racing.

There's no way Liam could be in the same room as him.

Zayn tries shaking his head to clear his thoughts so he can justify what he sees. Neither of them move, and it isn't long before his eyes grow tired, vision blurring, where he finally gives up in favor of lying down on the floor. He's more than a little sleepy and warm and the rest of the wine will go sour sitting out like he's left it, but he only continues staring at the figure until his head makes contact with the carpet and his eyes close of their own accord, where he ends up falling into a fitful sleep.

x.x.x.x

If Zayn didn't know any better, he'd say he's currently being watched, but that's ridiculous because the room is pitch black save for the white of the moon shining through his window. But something, though he's not sure what, has made him escape his slumber and with each second that ticks on by, that feeling only gets worse and worse. The only sound in the room is his breathing and no matter how much he tries to be quiet about it to see if he can hear anything else, it doesn't work too well for him because Zayn's never been good at holding his breath and he actually likes his oxygen as any other human would.

"Excuse me?"

His eyes widen, and it takes Zayn a minute to process whether he heard what he did, and well, he has a very late reaction, one that might've just cost him his life, but he'll be damned if he's going to die at the hands of someone else. Zayn would rather go out on his own watch, by his own misdoing than some stranger in his house.

He lets out a shrill scream with the knowledge that someone is in the same room as him, and damn it, it's completely in a pitch he's not willing to admit he can reach. But he pays no mind to how he sounds, opting to dive out of his bed so he can roll onto the floor while almost knocking his head against the dresser on the other side of the room. He's pushed himself into the corner of the walls and the piece of furniture and tries his best to remain calm. Yet, the panic sets in because he doesn't know where the intruder is in his own fucking house, and he's doesn't have any weapons and his cell phone is probably still trapped in the pocket of his pants on the other side of the room near the only exit.

Oh, he's going to end up murdered.

Zayn blinks, trying to clear his eyes so he can somewhat see in the dark. He feels sick though he's not sure if that's because of the situation he's in or because of the wine he'd had last night, but he tries to swallow down the feeling and calm his breathing so he can assess the situation and come up with a good enough plan to make it out alive.

In the end, the best thing he can come up with is to yell out, "Just take whatever you want." He knows that if he moves, there's no ways he's making it out of this room without someone spotting him, and Zayn was never built to run, especially if it came down to running for his life. Though the longer he sits there, the more he thinks this is payback for everything he's ever done wrong, more so doomed to die a slow painful death.

Zayn listens for any kind of movement, hopefully to get an understanding of where this person is at. But, as he listens, he can't make out any noise or shuffling of feet, so he has no idea where the stranger is in his room or if they know exactly where he is and are waiting for him to come out. He's still crouched in between the dresser and the wall but it's when he glances, as much as he can, around the room that he spots the bed and the idea that he can look under it to see if there are any feet there.

And there is, and they inch forward to round the corner of the bed and no doubt come closer to his side of the room.

"What are you doing?"

Zayn literally jumps and tries to push himself back against the wall further, but that doesn't work and his feet end up sticking out from his hiding place, and he thinks, for a brief moment, that he'll end up being dragged out by his legs and ultimately to the face of death.

The figure, well, Zayn can't see the feet anymore. Apparently they're near the end of the bed where the wood of the frame sits on the floor covering any sign of feet from his view. He continues to ignore the voice too, finally realizing it's a male and probably much stronger than he.

So this leaves Zayn with no other choice but to make another stupid decision and peer around the dresser. Both men (meaning him and the stranger because so far Zayn only knows there's one) in the room know exactly where he is, but Zayn would rather see them coming instead of being taken by surprise; only, when he looks, the figure is still standing at the edge of his bed, definitely not moving any closer to Zayn while also looking at him curiously.

And when Zayn glances up, his breath goes still and his eyes widen like a deer in headlights because _there's no fucking way_ that what he's seeing is real. He's also faintly aware that this might _really_ be pay back.

"I don't want to die, not like this. Oh, god." He sounds absolutely pathetic as he says it, and wouldn't be surprised if... if Liam (he swallows when the name runs through his brain because how is this possible?) purposely came back from the dead just to strike him down. Shit like this is only supposed to happen in movies, and of course it'd be Zayn's luck to have it happen to him.

Liam, or what Zayn thinks is still Liam, never moves. He continues standing at the end of the bed, half of his body shrouded in darkness and there's an eerie feeling in the air that has Zayn wanting to cry.

"Die?" It. He. Liam? speaks, and it sounds just like him. Zayn can't say he's not relieved simply because he expected some dark sinister voice to accompany the body of the deceased. "What are you... _oh_." Liam then, though, takes a couple of steps backwards but it does nothing to help Zayn except bring another sense of panic. "I'm not," the voice stops for a moment, but Zayn stays glued to the floor, barely peeking out from behind his safe haven. "I'm not going to kill you. I can't even touch you, apparently. I-"

"Wait, what?" By this point, Zayn's confused now and something in the air completely changes. In the distance Liam has given him, it's sending different signals than the harm he originally thought was going to take place.

"What?"

So either this version of Liam is dumb or he's just as clueless but Zayn huffs. "Okay, I've got to be dreaming right now. I'm so... I don't know what I'm feeling right now. What are you doing in my house if you aren't here to kill me?"

"Well, I've been in your house for a few days now, I guess."

That, _that_ does nothing to settle Zayn's nerves, no matter how much at ease the situation is beginning to feel. So he looks on suspiciously and debates on whether he should scoot back against the corner of the room again and wait for Liam to leave. "What?" he deadpans.

"I've left though. I mean, it's not like I've been here the entire time watching you and everything." His eyes are alight, and Zayn thinks that Liam's trying to be funny but it doesn't really work out given the predicament they're in, and when Liam's brief nervous laughter ends, he's back to thinned lips and uneasiness himself.

Zayn, on the other hand, coming to the conclusion that Liam's not as much of a threat as he once thought, decides to slowly stand up. He's still cautious, of course he is. He saw Liam's body in a casket being taken to the cemetery just hours ago and yet he's standing in his room.

"Is this about insurance? Or to slander my name because I haven't had any major accidents when doing my job?" It's pretty straight forward, and probably a lot more Hollywood sounding than anything that's truly plausible but Zayn thinks he has every right to be pissed if this was some sneaky way to ruin his reputation or aim for a bit of quick cash.

"What are you _talking_ about?"

And it's very clear that Liam doesn't and is, in fact, telling the truth. Zayn can see it in the way Liam's shoulders relax, a genuine look of confusion on his face for not only Zayn but himself.

"Nevermind. I just-I'm trying to figure out what's going on here, and why you're in my room."

But Liam doesn't have an answer for him, only shrugs his shoulder and Zayn thinks that isn't fair because this is his house, not Liam's, and there's got to be a very good reason for why he's in here. How'd he even know where he lived?

"Either I've gone mad or your definition of scaring someone is a bit off from mine."

Liam shakes his head though, a soft smile growing on his face as he lets loose the bewilderment of before. "No, I don't think you have. I mean, if you're going crazy, then I'm certainly out of my mind too."

Zayn knows it's meant to be reassuring, but it's not. Not really when he's still standing in the corner of his room, stuck here like a caged animal because he won't dare himself to go any further even if it is Liam. If someone asks him at a later date, he'd deny it, but Zayn feels like crying again. It's more out of frustration than anything, and there's still a million and one thoughts in his head, including the major one about Liam being, uh, well, _dead_.

"Okay, so, you mind explaining what you're doing here now?"

Liam clicks his tongue, nodding. "Right, sorry. Must've slipped my mind."

Zayn only looks on with a you-really-can't-be-serious-right-now kind of look.

"I woke up here, in your house, about two or three days ago. It's not like I have any way to keep track of the time, but that sounds about right." Liam looks up at the ceiling with his eyes so he can think, but shakes his head afterwards as he comes to the conclusion about his weird timing.

"You woke up in my house?" And now Zayn's thrown off guard and there's something missing here, but he doesn't know what. It's starting to grate on his nerves, if he's honest.

"Yeah, it's weird though because I can't remember anything after I died."

And that's when Zayn pales, "What?" His voice is dark, gravely and almost sick in a way that he might throw up because really, _what?_

Liam doesn't look phased though. He just kind of purses his lips and goes along with it. "I think that's right. I've been trying to get your attention too but it hasn't worked until earlier. Which by the way, whatever you were doing was stu-"

"Get out."

Liam's startled, and Zayn is too. It's a voice he rarely uses but it's full of authority and something he saves for when he's at the hospital whenever a lippy nurse tries to correct him while doing his job.

"I don't have anywhere to go, Zayn!"

"Just, get out. This, _this_ is ridiculous. I fucking sat at your funeral thinking you were dead, and now you want to show up here as if it's a joke. How'd you pull it off?" Anger seeps out of Zayn. Nothing makes sense about this, but Zayn... all he can comprehend right now is what he's seen and experienced and even his brain feels fried.

"Zayn," Liam calls. It sounds so desperately sad, almost a whine on his tongue, like he can't believe Zayn, after all they'd been through together, would kick him out so easily.

"Liam," he starts, "I don't know what the fuck this is, but it's not funny."

And that's when it dawns on Liam, eyes widening. "You think I-what, no, okay wait." He holds up a hand, but that only makes Zayn snap his mouth shut so he can clench his jaw tightly. "I'm... Zayn, I _am_ dead."

The other lad’s eyes narrow, clearly stating that his patience is wearing thin.

"I promise! I'm not, _fuck_ , I'm not lying about this." So Liam takes one step forward and when he does so, Zayn takes one step back. He doesn't have much farther to go until his back will hit the wall but Liam better stay where the fuck he is because Zayn's not happy right now. "Shit, would you just let me show you?"

"No, you stay where you are."

"I thought you wanted me to leave.”

Zayn's lips curl upwards in an almost snarl that has Liam backing down.

"Okay, fine. Fair enough. I'll leave if you want me to, but we've apparently got some things to talk about." He offers Zayn another small smile in an attempt to place nice, show that he understands that this is all overwhelming for Zayn and gets that he shouldn't push it.

But Zayn runs his hand over his face and sighs before chuckling, which then turns into full blown laughter because he’d like to give up right about how. He really does because what has he ever done in this life to deserve this kind of torture? To be haunted, if that’s really the case, by the one person he killed. This is vengeance at its best, Zayn knows, and none of it is fucking hilarious.

So he takes on a sarcastic tone in an attempt to humor Liam because of this moment he can’t really believe the other man in his room and yet he has no reason not to. “So if I’m not dreaming, and this is all hypothetical anyway,” he waves his hand in front of him indicating the both of them, “then how are you here?”

He’d really like to hear the answer on this one, see what kind of weird ass comment Liam will make this go around because up to this point, all his answers have fit but yet made him sound like he was insane.

Liam shrugs though, brows furrowing and picking at the hospital gown he’s wearing.”Well, I’m a ghost,” he explains. “At least I think I am. I’m pretty sure though, but there’s no telling.”

Now Zayn just feels patronized. “No,” he says flatly. He shakes his head, teeth messing with his bottom lip in complete denial. “Yeah, no. This is a dream or maybe I’m the one who died in my sleep, but this,” he laughs out loud before continuing, “this is fucking _crazy_.”

While Zayn’s busy fidgeting, Liam looks appalled and almost weary of what Zayn might do next because it looks like he’s about to have a mental break down and that wouldn’t be good for anyone, lest of all Liam considering the fact that the only person he has on his side at the moment is Zayn, who doesn’t even believe him and his predicament anyway.

Though, he realizes soon after that this is to be expected. Zayn’s just been told he’s in a room with a ghost, more specifically Liam, his ex-patient-who-died-just-a-few-days-ago-and-is-now-a-ghost.

Yeahhhh, Liam would probably be hysterically laughing too the more he thinks about it.

Zayn eventually calms down though feeling a bit lightheaded and drowsy again. The bed is calling his name but he can’t seem to make his feet more forward. He takes a few minutes for himself though, studying Liam and wondering if this is well and truly real. There’s no evidence to suggest otherwise, but as he’d said it before, this is not something that should ever happen.

“You’re a ghost then?” he eventually asks, throat thick from the dryness of talking and not having anything to drink aside from the alcohol he’d consumed hours ago. “And I’m not dead?”

Liam bites his lower lip before nodding and tries to give Zayn another half smile as comfort. He’s afraid to move near Zayn, or anywhere else in the room for that matter, despite the fact that even if he did and Zayn tried to pull something on him, it wouldn’t work because Zayn would more than likely end up falling straight through Liam’s figure.

Zayn closes his eyes and rubs his hand over his face before finally moving over to the bed, not giving two shits about coming closer to Liam. He doesn’t walk over to him but he notices that Liam stays where he is and he’s grateful for that. Once Zayn drops down onto the mattress, the sleepiness hits him in another wave, the rush of adrenaline dying down in his body and the more he thinks about what’s going on right now, the more he wants to fall asleep quickly so he can pretend that this isn’t happening to him. Zayn’s still not sure if he even fully believes what’s happening regardless of what Liam tells him and how earnest he is to explain the truth, but then again, there’s no reason not to believe him either, is there?

So Zayn decides to lay back on one of his pillows, staring down the bed at Liam and thinks back to the past couple of days where things have been so displaced for him. He’d felt so out of his element at the time of Liam’s death, so helpless and confused, and now that feeling is coming on twice-fold, and there’s truly not enough words to express how much he’d like to laugh or cry or scream, or do all three at once because what is his life right now? He’d worked through so many years of good grades to earn his degree to become a doctor, hoping to be someone well-respected. Everything had fallen into place when he realized he liked helping people, and he can't help but think that dream might be shattered now.

He takes a deep breath before scratching at the side of his neck. “I don’t know what to do right now,” he admits. And it looks like Liam doesn’t have an answer either.  “Shit. Shit. _Shit_ ,” Zayn hisses suddenly. He curls his fingers into the comforter of the bed and stares off past Liam’s figure to try and determine what happens next.

His cursing, though, takes Liam off guard because he flinches out of the corner of Zayn’s eye but Zayn doesn’t give his attention to the other male, too caught up on trying to rewire his brain to help him fit the necessary pieces together so he’ll understand what’s going on. “You’re _dead_ ,” Zayn finally says, turning his gaze to Liam. “I saw you die, and I held your fucking hand when you slipped away from your body…”

And Zayn should have the nerve to regret mentioning that because Liam looks taken aback, frazzled and uncomfortable with the idea that he’s in the same room with someone who has all the missing pieces that Liam’s head won’t allow him to remember. He should appreciate that fact though, but heaviness settles uneasily in his stomach.

“Look, I’m just about as clueless as you are right now, okay?” Liam rushes to say because the moment of freaking out needs to pass so he can finally get a move on, asking what he needs from Zayn. He’d woken up in this house after he died, he knows that much. And he’d even hightailed it out of there at the first sign of someone opening the door to the house, slipping through the walls and going home, only to find that his flat was nearly empty, save for some of the furniture pieces and a few random hangers hanging in the closet.

It was obvious that his family had come by to clear the place out, but Liam hadn’t expected that so soon, and ever sense, he’d been stuck outside, debating on going back to Zayn’s (which he only found out that it was Zayn’s house via the few pictures scattered across the place) or go home to see if he could talk to someone. But that hadn’t worked out either because as soon as he’d stepped through the door to his childhood home and tried to talk to his mother, she couldn’t hear him.

In fact, no one could, and Liam was left by himself until he decided to return here to Zayn and work on whether or not he’d be stuck like this forever. Turns out, last night was the first time he’d been able to get Zayn to pay any attention to him, and although it had been in a drunken stupor on Zayn’s part, it still made Liam giddy at the fact that maybe things could finally be solved.

“It’s not like I’m an expert on this either, and all I know is that I’m here. I don’t know how or why, but I just am, and you’re the only one who’s been able to see me.” Liam finally huffs out a sigh, and leaves it to Zayn to comment next, but instead, Zayn doesn’t do that, just turns his head and tries to view the alarm clock on his nightstand to see what time it is, but it does him no good because of the angle he’s lying in.

“What time is it?” It’s then that Zayn takes in his surroundings, how the fire that had once been lit up just hours before is now out and the curtains to his bedroom window are open, revealing the light of the moon as it casts itself across the floorboards and his bed.

Liam shuffles a little to his left, keeping in mind the fact that Zayn’s watching him now, until he can see the numbers written in red on the clock. “Oh,” he says, and has the decency to look sheepish. “It’s half past five.”

Zayn’s mouth falls open slightly. “In the morning?”

Liam nods.

“Are you kidding me?” Zayn grinds out. He’s used to late nights and early mornings, barely getting rest because of his job and the hours he has, but he has some time off. Though most of it so far has been spent in guilt, he figured he’d take advantage of it and use it as a week or two to finally get rid of those bags that have seemed to permanently settle under his eyes.

“Sorry,” Liam squeaks. He rubs at the back of his neck, and looks so genuinely upset at the fact that he’s been keeping Zayn up, that Zayn sighs and sinks down further onto the bed. “I should let you get back to bed. I’m sorry.”

Zayn blinks, staring at the ceiling. His eyes are growing heavy again, and he honestly has no patience to handle anything else as of this moment. “Do you sleep?” he asks. And when Liam doesn’t answer the first time, he repeats himself until Liam clears his throat and speaks.

“I don’t know. Well, I haven’t really felt tired so I figure the answer’s no.”

Which means that it’s a more complicated answer and situation than what Zayn’s willing to deal with as of this moment, so instead he lifts a hand up and pats the side of the bed. “Then come on,” he says. “We’re going to sleep for at least another five hours, and by then we’ll figure out… well, no, _I’ll_ figure out whether this is real or not.”

His words are slightly slurred by sleep, eyes drifting shut as he waits to feel the dip of the bed, indicating that Liam has joined him, but it never comes and when he eventually musters up enough energy to crack his eyes open to the spot where Liam had been standing, he finds that the other lad is no longer there until he hears a soft noise come from his side that has him shifting his head to the left.

Zayn, to say the least, isn’t startled to find that Liam’s laying down next to him, but what’s more surprising is that he hadn’t known he’d even gotten on the bed. Zayn also realizes that there is no dip in the mattress either, not like there is for him, and neither is there a dent in the pillow where Liam’s head rests.

He opens his mouth to point it out, though, wanting to address what he’s seeing, how it’s possible for Liam to practically not exist, but then it makes sense with what he’d been telling Zayn all along, that he’s a ghost and cannot touch that of the physical world.

So Zayn leaves it at that, shuts his mouth, closes his eyes and lets sleep overtake him to see whether or not this unusual night is only a figment of his imagination or if Liam really did die only to end up as a ghost to haunt Zayn for his misgivings.

Either way, Zayn’s scared to find out.

x.x.x.x

The sound of singing is what wakes him up.

It’s not overly loud; it’s a soft tune that drifts through the hallways into his bedroom and through his ears, and it’s something pleasant instead of overbearingly off-key. So Zayn lays in bed and thinks this is really nice, to be woken up quietly from a deep slumber via an incredible voice that protrudes from the next room.

Until he realizes that he doesn’t actually live with anyone and therefore there shouldn’t be anyone in his house _at all_ save for himself and anyone who may have a key to the place (which Zayn had been very specific about that, not wanting the wrong kind of people – namely is family – to come in unexpected as they tended to do at times, just to check up on him, or at least that’s what they say but Zayn thinks his sisters, especially, get bored without him around.)

Zayn sits up straight in bed, immediately regretting that decision because there’s a lingering feeling of nausea that settles over his stomach and he has to close his eyes and take deep breaths in order to have that feeling going away. From there, and once he’s sure he won’t throw up, he climbs out of bed, relieves himself in the bathroom before finally deciding to make his way down the hallway to the front of the house.

He feels oddly relaxed, though he thinks he shouldn’t be given there’s someone in his house, but as soon as Zayn steps into the living room, he sees a figure in the kitchen, sitting at bench and looking out of the window.

It’s Liam; everything from early this morning comes flooding back to Zayn, and he makes the mistake of groaning out loud, which causes Liam to startle and nearly fall of the ledge, using his leg that’d been dangling over the side, swinging back and forth, to catch his fall.

“Sorry,” Zayn murmurs as he walks through the threshold of the kitchen to the cabinet for a glass of water. His throat is dry and scratchy from the alcohol he’d consumed; he also hopes it’ll help settle the uneasiness he still feels.

“S’fine,” Liam says in return. He watches Zayn carefully as he fills the glass up with water from the tap and nearly gulp the entire contents down in one go. Once he’s done, he fills it back up and takes another sip before turning around and leaning against the counter. “I’m still convinced you’re not here right now.”

But Liam’s there alright. He’s sitting in the pale, warm light of the sun, features brightened and amplified for all of Zayn to see.

Liam shifts in his seat though, turns towards Zayn so that his back is to the glass of the window pane and he’s looking directly at the other lad. “I know this isn’t the most ideal situation; I completely get that, and if you want me to go, now that I’ve proved to you that this isn’t a game, I will. But, obviously there’s a reason I’m here, especially why I’m here like this,” Liam points at himself and raises his eyebrows, “and in your house, of all places.”

Zayn thinks about fixing himself something to eat, but the thought turns him off although he probably needs some kind of food in his stomach. Instead, he pushes off the counter and makes his way closer to the window, deciding to sit at the table in the kitchen so that he’s closer to Liam, but not there all the way because he’s still a little freaked out.

He doesn’t speak when he takes his seat, and he sits there for another five minutes paying too much attention to the water in his glass, but Zayn doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to do because there’s a massive amount of guilt that’s piling up so high. It’d been one thing to wallow in it all on his own, but now that he’s faced with the very reason he had to take off from work, well, it rubs him the wrong way and unnerves him more than it probably should.

“If you’re going to ignore me then I’ll just leave…”

But Zayn shakes his head and snaps, “Can you just give me five minutes?” He glances up at Liam, almost glares at him until he sees the solemn expression on his face. “It’s not every day someone wakes up to a ghost in their house, especially one they’re responsible for.” His tone is quieter, but he sucks in a breath as soon as the last line leaves his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say it, just caught up in the moment of trying to think clearly.

He casts his head down, fingers the side of the glass of water with wide eyes and prays that Liam won’t ask. But Zayn, finding out quickly enough, doesn’t have much luck on his side.

“What does that mean?”

Zayn lifts his gaze up to Liam only to find him staring right back, brows furrowed and a sharp frown on his face.

He stalls though, tries to pry his mouth open to say something but the longer he waits, the more impatient Liam gets, and just when Zayn knows that Liam’s about to ask him what he meant again, he blurts out, “Nothing. It means nothing. Forget I said anything.”

But they both know it is, in fact, something, but Liam leaves it alone, and Zayn’s grateful. He gets to sit there for another minute or two before he rubs a hand over his face and slumps in his chair. There’s a good chance he’s having a mental breakdown right now; it wouldn’t be uncommon given the fact that any doctor would go through a state of disbelief if they’d lost their patient. This only makes Zayn wonder if it’ll always be like this, guilt and shame and the possible fact that he may have this to look forward to for the rest of his career - whether or not the person he’s operating on will die at his own two hands.

He can promise himself all he wants, that it won’t happen again, and he’ll be better prepared for whatever comes next, but this just seems to overwhelm him all the more as of this moment, so he decides to take a deep breath and figure out what’s going on now rather than worry about a time that hasn’t even occurred yet.

By the time Zayn lifts up his glass to take another drink of water, he finds Liam staring back outside. The sun is still shining through the window pane, and for a brief moment Zayn wonders if Liam can feel it on his skin, how it burns and creates a warmness that’ll ease any chill in the air out of his bones.

But then Zayn bites at his lip, because he does remember their conversation from last night, especially the part where Liam, in a round about way, said he couldn’t actually touch material objects. If he couldn’t do that, then certainly something such as the sun would have no effect on him either. He doesn’t ask about it though, regardless of how the question is on the tip of his tongue. Zayn would rather not be rude, and whatever is holding Liam’s attention is already a reminder enough that things aren't right.

“See something interesting?” he questions instead, because anything else might amuse him more than the discussion they need to have.

But Liam only shakes his head, and mutters, “No.”

So Zayn leaves it at that, noting the way Liam's voice is soft and filled with a certain amount of sadness. He’d like to know what Liam’s thinking right now, but he can only imagine. It’s probably not a pleasant place, to be confused and out of one’s physical body.

Which is why Zayn lifts himself out of his chair and heads for the living room without any warning. It’s too intimate of a moment for him to continue witnessing, and he’s got a feeling that Liam needs just as much time to think about this as he does.

He waits patiently though, wonders if he should turn on the tv or open up his laptop to pass the time, but then he feels a chillness fill the air as Liam passes him to sit on the couch on the opposite side of the coffee table so that they can see one another.

“Why don’t…” Zayn trails off, clears his throat first before licking the front of his teeth and continuing. He feels awkward and out of place, but he pushes forward anyway. “Why don’t we go over a few things, yeah? Just simple stuff.”

Liam nods in agreement. “Fair enough. Like what?”

So Zayn thinks a moment or two before shrugging. “Well, did you sleep last night?”

“No,” Liam answers. He picks at the material of his outfit that Zayn’s just now realizing he has on. It’s a printed hospital gown, different than the ones that hang open from the back. He’s positive Liam feels grateful for that though. How weird it’d be to be wearing what he died in with a slit in the back that revealed too much for one’s liking-

 _Oh_.

Because Liam is. He is wearing what he’d had on that day, and Zayn’s gaze hardens on that fact, not able to take his eyes off of the blue and white gown. He studies it though, very aware that he’s staring, but there are no signs of blood that stain the material, no cuts in it either.

Zayn’s not sure if that helps him feel any better.

“Zayn?”

Liam’s voice snaps him out of his gaze. “Sorry, yeah?” He looks earnest, and blinks a few times to keep his attention focused.

“Weren’t you listening?”

He could lie and say that he was, but that’s not the truth, and he can’t start with lying right now. That wouldn’t be fair to him, and most importantly that wouldn’t be fair to Liam either.

“Zoned out for a second there. You’ll have to repeat yourself.”

So Liam does, looking mildly skeptical. “Watched you sleep for a bit. That sounds creepy, doesn’t it?” He chuckles nervously before running a hand through his hair. “So then I kind of wandered around the place. Just looked around because I’ve got nothing else to do. I hope you don’t mind?”

He looks sheepish all of a sudden, like Zayn might do something drastic for having a look around his place, but he only waves him off because if Zayn’s honest, he’d probably go around to all of his mate’s houses to shift through their things and just be nosy as fuck.

“That all?”

“Besides sit here and twiddle my thumbs?” Liam remarks. “Nothing else.”

Zayn cracks a small grin, but it disappears quickly enough when he realizes he needs to keep the conversation going. He also struggles with finding simpler questions to ask, but really, there’s no other way around this topic, and if they want to get anywhere, Zayn needs to dive right in and hope for the best. “What’s the last thing you remember?” And by the time the question is out of his mouth, his fingers are curling around one of the throw pillows on the couch, lips drawing into a thin like and an eyebrow raising half an inch because he realizes that’s a pretty loaded question and nowhere near the idea of starting off lightly and working their way up to the more difficult questions.

“In general or….” Liam moves his hand in a circular motion as a way for what he wants to say to be continued without actually saying the words aloud.

“Before you croaked.” This time, Zayn openly makes a face that has him regretting that line. “Shit.”

But Liam gives him a sour look and says, “You’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead.”

To which Zayn’s sure that affirming Liam’s death isn’t actually speaking anything but truth, but he’d rather not get a ghost angry lest he have some sort of powers that Zayn doesn’t know of. Which, in all honesty, is a bit ridiculous because there are various stories about ghosts and what they can and can’t do, and now that Zayn’s found himself face to face with one, none of those stories and movies that he’d happened to catch make any sense just because reality versus the illusions of stories are two totally separate things and the here and now may not live up to anything anyone’s created.

Well, unless all those stories from Hollywood weren’t exaggerated and were based on truth, but Zayn would rather put that thought to rest now as soon as it enters his mind because that has him swallowing and shivering at the prospect of various _things_ that could not only happen, but exist and that’s not a place he’s willing to go right now.

Yeah, Liam as a ghost is no problem. It’s easy stuff he’s sure he can handle because it’s Liam. Everything else that may exist? Not so much.

One day and one step at a time.

Liam still reprimands him though. “Shove off it,” he exclaims. “I may be a ghost but I’m _still_ dead, technically speaking.”

By now the guilty look has returned in Zayn’s eyes, and Liam thinks now is the perfect time to ask why it’s there. Hell, Zayn needs to deal with why it’s there in the first place, but then Zayn’s shifting around on the couch, sitting up on the edge of it in an attempt to calm his apprehension.

“Okay, us bickering isn’t going to get us anywhere, so maybe we need a different game plan. Things are too tense, and if we’re going to find what the hell is really going on, we’re going to need to work together,” Zayn explains.

Liam nods his head in agreement, and the look of disappointment from Zayn’s earlier comment vanishes.

“So, where do we start then?”

“You can begin with what you remember,” Zayn repeats himself.

Liam decides to settle into the couch, sitting back against the cushions although he can’t feel them. “Why don’t you tell me what _you_ remember?” And his question isn’t meant to start them poking at one another again, but a genuine curiosity that exudes from Liam, because to be honest, he can’t remember much. Sure, he remembers Zayn and the hospital visits, being admitted and needing to go into surgery, but other than that, it’s a blur.

He briefly wonders if this is what people with amnesia go through, or at least those who can’t make new memories. How frustrating it would be to completely remember a life before but nothing beyond that? And it’s not like Liam’s suffering to that extent, but it’s still a rather large chunk he’s missing. Who the hell forgets their own death?

And Liam clicks his tongue at that thought because yeah okay, that’s a bit of a blonde moment there, isn’t it? Unless everyone who dies ends up in his position but Liam doesn’t think that’s likely given the fact that he hasn’t seen anyone but people about, no other ghosts roaming around the place.

Zayn pales, though, at the question and instantly shakes his head. “No.”

It catches Liam off guard, causing him to narrow his eyes and wonder why in the world it’d be fair for him to give away what he does and doesn’t know only for Zayn to feel like he can’t do the same?

“No?” Liam questions, eyebrows rising in disbelief.

“I’m not subjecting you to that right now,” he explains. But really, what kind of bullshit is that? This is Liam’s _life_ he’s talking about, how he ended up leaving the world. That shouldn’t be kept from him because he might be too weak to take it. He’s already dead so it’s not like he’d have a heart attack. The worst he could do is freak out for a bit until he could calm down.

Liam wants to laugh though, because it only enforces the idea that knowledge, at a time like this, is crucial.

“You can’t just keep me from it. I deserve to know. It’s mine.” His features grow stern and heavy with his gaze on Zayn’s. He’s definitely dead serious (no pun intended, Zayn thinks) more than he has been before this entire time.

“I know,” Zayn says, voice calm and almost a whisper. “But I’m still trying to come to terms with it, and I’m not quite sure it’d be good to subject you to it as of right now.”

Liam clenches his jaw, but doesn’t argue. There’s probably a good reason Zayn’s keeping hush hush about it, and while Liam would really like to express his disdain for the decision, he decides to trust Zayn (which he honestly, probably shouldn’t do now that he knows Zayn’s not going to be completely upfront with him) but it’s more out of instinct for Liam to go along with Zayn. It’s an unexplainable feeling, but it rests deep in his mind rather than his chest.

He’ll give it the benefit of the doubt for now.

“You talking to me.”

“What?” Zayn’s brows furrow, head tilting to the side.

“That’s pretty much the last thing I remember,” Liam admits. “You were reassuring me that everything was going to be okay.”

The atmosphere of the room suddenly shifts, like everything goes still. The noises of cars and the birds outside cease to exist for the moment, and Liam’s eyes widen just a fraction of a bit while Zayn himself has lost all his breath, chest sinking in and feeling the way that he can’t breathe. No air is coming in or out, and a wave of realization hits him full force that makes him feel like doubling over because at the amount of dread that courses through his body.

“Uhm,” Liam starts, knowing that he probably shouldn’t have said that now. He’s definitely made things awkward, but how is one supposed to reel in the conversation after that? “I shouldn’t have… I didn’t-”

Zayn looks down at the floor before he interrupts. “S’fine.” He can feel his heart pounding in his chest which still feels so tight from the admission from Liam. “I asked the question, so you’re fine.” Zayn can feel the tears pricking the sides of his eyes, and he knows they’re about to fall if he doesn’t suck this up now.

But he can’t do that because Liam doesn’t get it. He may realize that Zayn had well, not exactly lied, but his words - the one's he'd given Liam at the hospital - had been proven wrong because Liam’s now dead. Yet, the underlying reality of it all, the part that Liam doesn’t understand, is the fact that Zayn is the one incumbent for his death, not just that he said those words and with good intent, but Zayn had really been the one responsible which makes it all the worse that that’s Liam’s last memory on earth.

Zayn can feel lips tremble, knowing full well that there is no way he’s going to be able to stop the tears, although he has two options right now. Cry openly in front of Liam or do it somewhere where he can’t see.

And of course he goes for the latter.

“You’re...,” he trails off before standing up. His vision is going blurry right about now, and Zayn’s trying so hard to keep it in. “We’ll talk, uh,” he swallows around the lump in his throat while simultaneously hating the fact that he’s leaving Liam here by himself “Just give me a couple of hours, yeah? We’ll talk in a bit.”

He walks out of the room as quickly as he can, his back turned to Liam. And before he fully exist the living room to get away from the other man and the tragedy of it all, his face crumples. He barely makes it into his room before a sob escapes his throat that hits him harder than he ever thought possible. The only other day Zayn had let his tears fall had been the day he hadn't saved Liam. He hadn't cried hours after that nor had he given in completely at the funeral either, but now that everything has finally sunken in, the pain and the regret and the guiltiness overwhelms him enough that it feels like a knife is being carved right into his chest, nicking his organ just the slightest bit to cause more damage than what had previously been there before.

Zayn doesn’t know how long he stays in his room, and he’s not sure whether or not Liam can hear him either, but if there’s one thing that Zayn does know is that he’s going to have a hard time admitting the truth to the other lad. Because while Zayn had only known Liam through being his doctor, something told him he was much more than a patient, someone he could’ve gotten to know and trust, someone kind and the potential to be what human nature intended for humans to be.

Liam wasn’t ordinary, and while he hadn’t had the chance to prove that to Zayn while he was alive, Zayn gets the feeling that he’s going to be seeing just how special the other lad really is.

After all, Liam _is_ a ghost.

x.x.x.x

It’s not until a couple of hours later - including the two hours that were spent in a fitful sleep that he’d managed to fall into after gaining a headache from crying so hard - when Zayn finally emerges from his bedroom.

The sun is no longer high up in the sky as it had once been, but it’s not yet dark either. The house, he notices, is also rather quiet and when he scouts the place Liam is nowhere to be found.

To say the least, it has him worried for various reasons. One, either this was a really, really vivid dream and Liam isn’t here at all and he’s, in fact, actually seeing things or two, Liam’s just managed to pop out for a bit doing god knows what because he’s a ghost, for fuck’s sake, and what would a ghost have to do anyway?

Then again, it’s not really fair of Zayn to be angry. It’s not like Liam owes him anything, more so Zayn owes him a lot more than he’s willing to admit, but seriously, they were supposed to talk again…

“Hello!”

Zayn startles and turns on his heel quickly enough that he almost loses his balance. The only thing that stops him from fully falling over is the fact that he manages to reach out and catch himself on the couch.

“ _Shit_ ,” he says, laying a hand over his heart.

Liam manages to look concerned though there’s clear evidence that he’s also trying his best to hold back a grin. “Sorry, did I scare you?”

Zayn just gives him a look that doesn’t need any explaining.

“You’re alright?” Liam decides to ask then, and Zayn doesn’t know which incident he’s referring to, the one where he’d left the room and completely had a meltdown or the fact that he’d almost gotten a concussion because Liam’s too fucking quiet.

“Where the hell did you go?” he snaps while watching as Liam crosses his arms.

“Out.” Which doesn’t answer Zayn’s question but all Liam does is move over to the couch to sit down. Again, Zayn notices the way that the cushions don’t fold in as Liam sits. It’s as if nothing is there at all, and it’s quite fascinating, if he’s honest.

“Really though, where’d you go?” Zayn sits on the couch too in the same spot he’d been in earlier.

Liam shrugs nonchalantly though. “Walked around. You live in a nice neighborhood.”

“Are you sure that’s safe?” And Zayn snorts at his own comment.

Liam rolls his eyes. “I’m sure it’s safe. No one can see me and even if they did, they can’t touch me so it’s not like I’m going to be killed… again.”

Zayn wants to scold him for making jokes about this, but if it’s what keeps that sparkle in Liam’s eye, the one he currently has now, then Zayn’s going to have to be fine with whatever he says. “So, you have any idea about how this is possible?”

“With as much time has I’ve had these past couple of days,” Liam begins, “I haven’t come up with a single reason as to why I’m here. I didn’t-I mean, who in the world ends up as a ghost anyway? It’s just my luck is what it is.”

Something like dread then fills Zayn up, and his shoulders drop in an act of defeat. They literally have nothing to go on and no point of reference either. So where in the hell do they even begin with this little quest to determine why Liam’s here?

“Maybe,” Zayn starts, eyes narrowing in thought. “Maybe that’s just it though.”

Liam looks interested and sits forward. “I’m up for anything at this point.” He completely focuses his attention on Zayn, watches as several different things pass over his face, and he just hopes that he’s got something going.

“You said you don’t remember, right?”

“My death, yeah. What’s that got to do with it?” He’s still interested nonetheless. They’ve got no reason to dismiss any sort of idea that just might help Liam.

Zayn purses his lips, and throws out his hand in a motion that clearly suggest that what he says might be slightly absurd, but he wants Liam to hear him out. “What if you have to remember it, you know, all on your own. Maybe you didn’t pass on because you don’t know why you died in the first place, and now you’ve got to figure that out yourself.”

Zayn looks slightly hopeful, but also weary of his own idea because whatever suggestion he comes up with, Liam will eventually figure out the truth and realize just the kind of person Zayn is. It’s not something he’s looking forward to, seeing as Liam’s placing a good amount of trust in him (and really, look at how the first time he’d done that turned out) and that will be ripped away as soon as Liam knows what’s going on.

“But if that were the case,” Liam adds, “then you could just tell me and be done with it.” And that clearly makes sense. It does, and Zayn would be all for that if it didn’t involve him and the fact that he’s the sole reason Liam’s like he is.

“It means more, I’d say, if you were to find out yourself. Like,” Zayn pauses and struggles to come up with an example to compare it to. “You know when someone has a secret, but it’s not their place to tell whoever they’re keeping it from and they’ve got to find out from the original source?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d assume it’d be like that.” Zayn’s earnest, and possibly trying to convince Liam of his way of thinking, which might not even be right, but it’s worth a shot regardless.

“Or,” Liam pushes, “you could just tell me.”

Zayn sighs. “Yes, I could, but,” he emphasis, “if I tell you now, and it doesn’t work, if you don’t get sent to wherever the hell it is you’re supposed to end up, then that rules out the option of you finding out about it yourself, and you could end up stuck here.”

Liam ponders Zayn’s response, and while it might be a plausible way to actually see if him not remember why he’s here in the first place will help him get sent to, well, wherever he’s intended to go, Zayn’s logic is undeniable.

“Alright, fine,” he accepts. “We’ll do it your way first, but if something doesn’t happen soon, I expect the truth.” His tone is austere, and has Zayn nodding in agreement. At this point, Liam would probably ask him to shake his hand to seal the deal, so to speak, but that can’t happen. Liam looks down at his hands for a brief moment and wonders how long this’ll last, if he’ll be stuck like this forever.

He’s tried touching various objects but the only thing that happens is his figure going right through the material piece. It’s unfair, to say the least, because as much as Liam, or anyone for that matter, hadn’t wanted to die, he’d rather go and be gone from earth for good rather than be stuck here watching people live their lives in the form he's in now.

Liam remembers something important about human contact from his school days, that’s it’s essential, that it’s important because humans aren't meant to be loners, aren’t meant to be drifters either. And while that may apply to the real world, Liam’s a ghost would like to believe that that logic applies to him too. He’s still human in more ways than one, but there are also things holding him back. To say the least, he’d give anything to feel something, and if he can’t do that soon or at all, then he’d rather listen to Zayn and his reasoning’s so he can get the hell out of here for good.

“So,” Liam breathes out (which honestly, it’s not really breathing, he’s noticed, but the act has been with him for so long now that his chest still lifts in time with Zayn’s), “What do you have in mind?”

x.x.x.x

“Zayn, this is ridiculous,” Liam hisses in his ear.

But all Zayn does in return is smile and nod at the group of nurses who are behind their station. As soon as they pass and they’re alone in the hall of the hospital, Zayn’s façade drops and he looks over at Liam.

“What else do you have in mind?” he grits out. “It’s not like I want to be back here either, and if my supervisor sees me, considering I’m supposed to taking some time off, then I’m just as good as dead as you.”

Liam snorts though. “Obviously this is a bad idea. You said it yourself, you could get in trouble, and if this is the place that I apparently died in, I don’t understand how this is going to help me any.”

They continue walking, but as soon as they pass another group of people - visitors judging by their attire - Zayn knows that he can’t say anything at all to Liam given the fact that just before they walked into the building, they’d been stared at in the parking lot by a man and his wife when they’d been arguing with one another until eventually Liam had told him to shut up till they were inside. It wouldn’t have gone over well if he had continued on with their conversation, Zayn looking as if he was talking to an imaginary friend lest he wanted people to admit him as a schizophrenic.

As soon as they get to the end of the hallway, they end up at another set of doors that lead to Zayn’s office. Once in there, he shuts the door and finally settles down in his seat behind his desk. From there, he digs through his drawers for his access keys which grant him access to certain areas of the building, the one he'll need in order to show Liam what he has in mind to hopefully fix his current predicament.

“Wow, this is fancy,” Liam says, voicing his thoughts out loud.

Zayn just snorts though before shaking his head. He’s found at least one keycard, which is enough to get them where they need to go. After that, he stands up and grabs the white hospital jacket off his coat rack and shrugs it on. “It’s nothing, and I don’t even get to spend that much time here anyone. A waste of space is what it is.”

“Well alright, Debbie downer.”

Zayn gives him a side-eye glance, fixing his coat before grabbing the key and shoving it into one of his pockets. “It’s the truth.”

“Right, because you’re given a place this nice and you complain.” It’s not like Liam is jealous or anything, but he’s pretty sure this room is as big, if not slightly bigger, than his apartment. He can’t even bring himself to think about Zayn’s house because that’s a whole other story.

Liam doesn't wait for a response from Zayn before he exits the room. He walks right through the door since he can't open it, and while he does so, he can almost feel Zayn's eyes boring into his back. He grins to himself knowing he probably just surprised Zayn. He'd managed to learn that little trick while trying to open a door all by himself and when that hadn't worked, he'd accidentally fell through it.

Zayn opens the door to his office and slips out soon after, and Liam waits for him to pass so he can follow him. “I wonder if I find an old person, you know, someone on their deathbed, if they’d be able to see me,” he wonders aloud. “Oh, that’s a good idea.”

Zayn has to bite his tongue in order not to reply to that comment given that there are another few people passing their way. He gives them a nod, noticing how a few of the women seem to blush when he smiles at them.

“I bet you get good game here.”

Zayn sputters. “What?” And he says it just as someone else passes, who gives him a strange look before continuing on down the maze of hallways that seem completely endless. They’re pale white, with barely a hint of color added to the railing and it’s rather boring.

Liam snickers though and catches up with Zayn after trailing behind him this entire time, so that he can walk right beside him.

“I still want to find someone old.”

“You’re so brazen,” Zayn admits when he sees no one else around. They’re passing hospital rooms. Some have visitors while others don’t and a little pain hits his heart.

“Eh, I just have a lot of thoughts is all. Not much else to do when you exist but don’t exist.” Liam scrunches up his face at his words.

Zayn shakes his head at that because it’s definitely not about Liam having so many thoughts; it’s about the ones he chooses to voice aloud, and Zayn gets it. He’s being a little cheeky now that he can loosen up without the worry of people looking at him, and had pretty much said so on the way to the hospital in the first place.

“Where are we going exactly? Like, you want me to remember, but what in this bloody place,” he makes a face at his own choice of words, “is going to help me?”

Zayn licks his lips and ducks his head down as they pass another nurse's station. He knows at least one of them because she’d been in the room with him on that day. He also holds his breath as they pass, which Liam notices but doesn’t comment on, until they’re past the little area where Zayn can let out a sigh of relief.

“The operation room.”

That has Liam pausing in his movements, and if Zayn hadn’t been accustomed to the chillness in the air whenever Liam's around him already, he wouldn’t have noticed the change to rapid heat in a matter of seconds. So he turns to his side, looks back at Liam who’s standing stock still, eyes on the floor.

“Liam, c’mon, I can’t just stand here in the hallway. They’ll see, and if I keep going without you, you won’t be able to find me.” Zayn darts his eyes around to make sure no one can see him but he’s currently standing in front of a hospital room, and he knows he’s going to have to keep his voice down. “ _Liam_ ,” he hisses out harshly.

It’s what snaps Liam out of whatever little phase he’d been in because then he’s suddenly next to Zayn again and urging him to keep going.

“I’m fine,” he admits.

“I didn’t ask if you were, so obviously you aren’t fine. Is this okay?” Zayn shifts his gaze to the side, looking over at Liam as much as he can but the other lad looks solemn, and nothing like he’d been five minutes ago, beyond cheerful and pleasantly happy.

Liam swallows but nods his head. “Yeah, just caught me off guard.”

“We don’t have to,” Zayn begins, but Liam looks at him sharply.

“No, Zayn. Your idea is a good one. If that’s the room I… I died in then maybe going back there will help. Besides, I don’t want to be stuck here forever,” he mutters, and when he looks closely at Zayn, he can see the hint of a frown on his lips.

If he could, Liam would bump his shoulder against Zayn’s, help him cheer up again, but that isn’t the case, and all Liam has is his words. “Not that you’d be bad company if I’m forced to stick around here,” Liam concedes. “You’re not so bad.”

He smiles one of those breathtaking smiles, full face lighting up into something Zayn’s never seen on Liam before. It completely suits him well, and if Zayn’s honest, he’d like to see it a lot more, would like to be the one to put it on his face too.

It’s such a bittersweet thought that makes Zayn’s eyes glisten with wetness but not enough to have him cry again. His frown has turned upside down by this point, into a smile that hopefully means something equally important as Liam’s smile does to him.

“You’re not so bad either,” he says, returning the sentiment. And from there, they walk side by side in their own quietness until they eventually approach the room that had been scheduled for Liam’s surgery just three days ago.

x.x.x.x

“So,” Liam says, looking around the room and waiting patiently for something to happen. “Do I need to say some magic word like abracadabra before something changes because this isn’t what I had planned for my afternoon?”

Zayn clicks his tongue and stands near the doorway of the room. He won’t go any further than that, instead leaving it up to Liam to roam around.

“Like you have anything better to do right now. You’re a ghost, for fuck’s sake, Liam. You’ve got all the time in the world.”

Liam laughs though, continuing his search around the room. There’s _things_ in here, equipment and all that stuff that he’s curious about, but not overly so that he feels the need to ask about them because he’s pretty positive that if he does ask, there’s going to be some long, overflowing conversation from Zayn about his knowledge on what is in here, and Liam gets it already. Zayn’s got to be smart enough to become a doctor, at least he’d like to think. That thought doesn’t settle with him if Zayn had been one of those that managed to cheat their way through college for a degree in a job he probably shouldn’t be in if that were the case.

Liam lets it go though. That’s too much of a topic he’d rather not get into, and also there’s the fact that just bringing it up might be too insulting on Zayn’s behalf, and Liam had promised himself hours ago he’d rather give Zayn the benefit of the doubt.

“Yes, but you don’t.”

Zayn rubs a hand over his face and let’s Liam be for the moment. He’s trying his best not to be too shaken up over where he is but he can’t help but glance over at the metal table in the middle of the room. Everything is squeaky clean. There are no signs that anyone had been in here, let alone died, and there’s no blood either.

It unnerves him.

“Something wrong?”

Zayn snaps his gaze up to Liam before shaking his head. “So this didn’t work.” He frowns.

Liam shrugs. “Guess not.” He makes his way back around closer to Zayn before opting to sit down. And it’s the last place that anyone should really sit because a noise of protest escapes Zayn’s throat as he watches Liam clamor up onto the metal table. His eyes widen, and it hurts to swallow from how tight his throat has suddenly constricted. “What?” Liam says, giving Zayn a weird look.

Zayn just stares for a couple of seconds though because, oh wow, this is, well, this is unexpected, and surely, _surely_ Liam should be able to remember what had happened here.

“Are you okay?” Liam climbs off the table then, moves towards Zayn and reaches out a hand to touch his cheek, but what happens next has both Zayn and Liam flinching because Liam remembers that he can’t actually feel anything, and Zayn only witnesses a hand disappearing into his skin and that exact area going ice cold.

Liam immediately removes his hand though, yanks it back against his chest and looks at Zayn with wide, brown eyes that look scared. “I’m sorry. Sorry. Shit, I forgot.” He backs up a couple of steps, continuing to clutch his hand as if it’d been set on fire.

Zayn’s too busy realizing that the spot on his cheek has now settled down back to his body temperature, but that doesn’t stop him from reaching up and feeling his face. “S’fine, Liam,” he admits. “I’m just shocked is all.”

He smiles wide, reassuring Liam although internally everything is not actually fine. He just witnessed Liam sitting the same spot he died in _three_ days ago along with the feeling as if something icy left a mark against his skin.

“Why don’t, uh, why don’t we get out of here? Clearly this isn’t working.” Zayn swallows down anything else he’d like to add and instead opts for turning around and exiting the room, hoping that Liam will follow him with no questions asked.

They end up stopping by Zayn’s office again to replace the jacket and to lock the door, but none of them say anything at all until they’re outside, where Liam’s standing a yard or two away from him as they walk to the vehicle.

“I’m sorry,” Liam says as soon as they’re both in the car. Liam had expressed his concern about not wearing a seatbelt the first go around. Zayn had reassured him that it’d probably take some time to get used to the fact that things, certainly death itself, would no longer affect him the way it did everyone else.

“Liam, stop.”

“I just, I forgot and you weren’t expecting that.”

Zayn turns on the engine and heads for home. “It felt cold,” he adds. “You didn’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re thinking, and it was a moment of forgetfulness. You’re fine.”

Though really, Zayn thinks Liam should be telling him that, especially given the fact that his grand idea had only seemed to make things tense between the two of them rather than helping either of them.

“So what do we do now?” Liam asks, changing the subject.

Zayn's mouth curves upwards in thanks for doing so, needing to get his mind off of the last hour. “We come up with a new solution. Going there obviously didn’t work, so there has to be something that’ll trigger your memory.” He focuses on driving the rest of the way and doesn’t bother looking at Liam who has his bottom lip caught in between his teeth.

“What if we never find what it is that’s got me stuck here?”

Zayn glances over at Liam while his hands tighten on the steering wheel. It’s only mid-day, near lunch time but Zayn figures it’s probably best to go home for now so he can eat and they can brainstorm.

“We’ll get your answers,” Zayn insists after a beat or two of silence. He wants to badly to help Liam out and make things right, and if this is the last thing he’ll ever do, then so be it. This is important, and Zayn needs to correct it.

“But-”

“No,” Zayn interjects. He gives Liam a sharp eye, one that clearly says he’s done with the what if’s and would rather not entertain the idea of Liam being stuck on earth for good. It’s not something Zayn’s willing to accept, and it shouldn’t be what Liam’s thinking about right now either. There are endless amounts of possibilities, which are all probably dead ends in helping figure out whether or not Liam’s here for a specific reason, but it also means that there’s more of a chance of probability.

Zayn also has a gut feeling about this, that whatever it is they find, it’s going to be both good and bad.

x.x.x.x

That night is more or less awkward. Zayn had eventually fixed himself lunch and let Liam watch tv, of course not without standing in front of the thing with the changer for ten minutes trying to figure out what was best to watch given the fact that Liam knew he wouldn’t be able to change it on his own.

“We have to find the right thing so I don't bother you again,” he told Zayn.

Zayn had eventually joined him, watching some reality show that Zayn didn’t recognize given not only the content but the fact that tv wasn’t much in his schedule after working nearly every day with long hours.

By the time dinner rolled around (to which he only had a sandwich and nothing else), the both of them were still sitting in front of the tv with Zayn commenting every once in awhile. They’d both crack a smile or laugh whenever something funny happened. It helped them both relax until Zayn finally called it a night and said he’d be going to bed.

And at that time, he thought it’d be easy to slip away from reality and into his dreams, especially since he’d been yawning so much before climbing into bed. But now that Zayn’s staring at the ceiling, his eyes won’t close, and he wonders if he should give up and join Liam in the living room again.

That is until he hears Liam whisper, “Zayn.”

His brows furrow but he doesn’t move just in case he’d only been hearing things.

“ _Zayn_ , are you awake?”

He snorts and sits up in bed, the comforter that’d been draped over his body falling off of his chest.

“What are you doing?”

He can barely see Liam in the dim light of the room. He’s more than covered in darkness and shadows from the objects hanging off the wall but he steps forward so that Zayn can at least see his face a little more clearly.

“Did I wake you?” he asks.

Zayn looks at him directly, deadpanning, “Even if I was, I’m awake now. What do you need?”

Liam seems to settle for those words before he scoots closer to the bed. He’s wringing his hands together but doesn’t look overly nervous like he had been when he’d first been in Zayn’s room.

“Well, we didn’t talk about what’s going to happen next.”

And Zayn groans before falling back onto his pillow. “You couldn’t save it for tomorrow?”

But the whine that comes from Liam suggests otherwise until Zayn’s patting the side of the bed. “C’mon then.”

“Cheeky,” Liam comments as he moves on over. “If I’d known it was this easy to get in your bed, I might’ve already asked you when I was in the hospital.”

Zayn nearly chokes on spit, looking up at Liam whose eyes are as wide as saucers.

“Oh, did I say that out loud?” Liam hurriedly settles down on the bed, nodding slightly because the room’s gone quite and he's partially embarrassed. “Either way, I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

And at this point, Zayn shakes his head before sitting up against the pillows and the headboard so he doesn’t feel like he’s being looked down upon. “This just gets better and better, doesn’t it?” A half smile has found its way onto his face as he glances over at Liam. “Really though?”

Liam smiles sheepishly and nods. “Why not?”

“And just when I thought this couldn’t get any more interesting.” A calming sort of peace transcends the room. Zayn feels relaxed now, like he could fall asleep but there was obviously a reason that Liam came into the room in the first place. “Did you need something?” he decides to ask, not that he wants to change the subject because finding out a patient of his might’ve had a thing for him fluffs up his ego a bit, but now, _especially_ now when they’re sitting in bed, isn’t the place to admit feelings.

“I just…” Liam huffs, growing frustrated with himself. “I know what you said earlier,” he admits. His eyebrows draw together, and he looks almost pained at the way things are turning out, how he’s disheartened with everything going on, and he can do something to fix it on his own. “About not worrying, but I can’t help it. How do you know I’m not stuck like this forever?”

When Zayn looks over at Liam, he finds that the other lad’s gaze is drawn down. He’s leaning against the headboard too, just like Zayn is, but his hands are in his lap, picking at his fingernails because he’s mildly restless and doesn’t have anything else to do.

“And I’d like to not worry. That’d be great, but it’s what I’ve always done, and I don’t think you realize how difficult it is being like this. It’s only been a few days, but I’ve tried _everything_ , literally everything to feel something again, to run my fingers through the water coming out of the faucet, to even touching you, and I can’t help but think what if I am stuck like this, Zayn?” He then, ever so slowly, lifts his eyes up to Zayn's, turning his head with a distressed look written all over his features. “I don’t want to live like this. I can’t do it; not only is it tempting, but it’s…” he trails off, trying to find the right word to place there. He bites at his lip, and Zayn can practically feel him thinking from where he’s laying.

Then Liam’s speaking again, drowning out all of Zayn’s thoughts so that his attention is only focused on the other male. “It’s lonely, Zayn. And I don’t want that for myself. Call me selfish, but I don’t.”

Right about now would be the time that Zayn would lean over and throw an arm around Liam’s shoulders, bringing him in for a one-sided hug, but he can’t do that and it pains him. Liam’s words sink deep into his chest, and he thinks back on his family and all the people he knows, how he’s not only alive, but he’s able to touch them and hug them and be around them.

And it’s probably the simplest thing one could take for granted, but even then, something so small is significant, and Zayn feels rather guilty as he seems to be feeling more of as of late. “Liam, I’m sorry.” He can’t take his eyes off Liam, how his head is now resting against the wood of the frame of his bed, eyes closed as if he’d fallen asleep right there.

Liam cracks a grin and shakes his head. “Not your fault, Zayn.”

That choking feeling that Zayn had had yesterday is back. His throat feels like it’s closing in on itself and the tears, well, they don’t really come but he feels like if he sits here long enough thinking about how shit everything is, they might just show themselves soon enough.

“I saw my mum,” Liam says suddenly. It leaves no room for Zayn to think further about anything else save for Liam’s words.

“What do you mean you saw your mum?”

Liam shifts on the bed until he’s sitting with his legs crossed and staring at Zayn so that his neck won’t hurt. “At the funeral.”

At that, Zayn sucks in a sharp breathe. “The funeral, you went?” His voice is probably more accusing than it should’ve been, but for fuck’s sake, that’s probably the last place Zayn would go to.

Liam only nods though. “I tried talking to her because I didn’t understand what was going on. I saw the invitation – is that what they even call it? – sitting on your kitchen counter so I thought ‘hey, I’ll get some proper answers and figure out what’s going on’ but that turned out to be a horrible mistake.”

Zayn then brings his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose before letting those fingers run over his eyelids, rubbing circles there in order to help soothe the growing headache from Liam’s admission.

“I’m afraid to even ask anything else,” Zayn admits, but it’s obvious that Liam wants to talk about it, and he’s willing to go through this with him for the sake of all that is good in the world. Well, maybe not that, but for Liam’s sake because he’s been incredibly patient and kind on Zayn’s part for being a little slow with the whole ghost thing and wanting to help him.

“She was just sitting there, and I kept trying to get her attention but she couldn’t see me. No one could, and that was the most horrible thing I’ve ever experienced.” Liam looks concentrated, so focused on remembering the events that he doesn't bother to slow down his talking.

Zayn hadn’t seen it from Liam’s angle since he’d been sitting in the back of the church but he has enough of a picture to draw up the scene again mentally, to see the woman that Liam had loved and cherished for bringing him into the world, not even paying attention to the one thing that was right by her side because she believed that the only aspect of Liam was the body laying in the casket and his soul now gone from the world.

“Forget the time I broke my arm or was spanked because I cursed at my parents, I never…” Liam chokes on his words and Zayn knows that feeling all too well. He’d like to place his hand on Liam’s back, rub circles  there and help him relax as best as he can, but he’d only go through Liam and probably cause more of a disturbance than just sitting and listening.

“So, uh,” Zayn expresses, “what’d you do then?”

Liam’s entire facial expression changes rapidly. No longer is it one of bereavement but something akin to heartache of the ultimate degree. “I viewed my body and left.”

Zayn squeezes his eyes shut so tightly so he can’t see the room around him. Little colorful patterns dance their way across the vastness of black he sees but slowly the visual comes into his mind, his own two eyes seeing the casket and picturing a broken Liam in a hospital gown too big for his body, hovering over his own physical being and wondering how it must feel to be so detached from the world.

He’d been in the room all along with the vast majority believing he’d never occupy their spaces again, and it brings Zayn to a whole new way of thinking, a new level for him to view things because if this is Liam now, then what does that mean for someone else this may happen to? It’s such a scary thought that maybe some were destined to roam the earth with no sense of belonging, ignored and frayed out at the edges because there is no end.

Zayn’s eyelids flutter open to see Liam staring at him, and he nearly gnaws at his lips and tries to come up with something comforting although he knows that nothing he could ever come up with will help. Hell, he could say that things are going to be okay, that he’ll make sure that Liam’s going to be safe, but in all honesty and as much as he promised Liam earlier, he really has no clue if he can keep it. He’d like to, that’s what every person really wants, is to be able to keep the promises they make to people they like and or love, but sometimes that doesn’t happen, and Zayn can’t bear to think of Liam becoming so dull in his version of the afterlife, drifting away mentally rather than physically because all that might be left is a ghost with raw, long lost memories that serve no purpose if they can’t be shared with anyone else.

Until Zayn decides that if anything, there is one thing he can think of that might help ease the tension in Liam’s shoulders and in his own. He’ll grow old and possibly die before Liam sees an end, and if that’s the case and they don’t find a way out for the other lad, then Zayn would rather be there for Liam than him suffer as much as he is right now because loneliness isn’t for most people and shouldn’t be the case for someone as… as special as Liam either.

“You’ll stay here then,” Zayn affirms. “If we can’t get you a way out, then you can stay here for me. I’ll die a crazy old man if I have to but I won’t leave you.”

Liam looks on astonished but shakes his head, “Zayn, you can’t do that. It’s foolish and stupid.”

But Zayn just waves him off. “Maybe, but to know that you’d wither away into nothing but a forgotten memory and a dull mind doesn’t suit me, and I’ll be damned if you stay here alone.”

The space between them is heavy with more than just pressure. It’s almost a soreness that absorbs into both of their skins. It stings, crawls over them with goose bumps left behind. Neither knows what to do next with themselves or with their words, yet they both don’t feel awful for where the conversation has headed.

Eventually, Zayn begins to nod off because of the quietness and the steady sound of his breathing that creates a set lull. There are a million and one thoughts swimming around in his head, and Zayn can’t say he won’t be disappointed if he doesn’t dream tonight because there’s too much activity, just too much of everything.

And so just before he drifts off he opens his eyes one last time and shifts his body so that he’s now lying flat on the bed. He looks over at Liam who’s settled on the other side of the mattress, looking more peaceful than distraught as he’d once been, before speaking up one last time.

“Liam,” he whispers. He tries hard to concentrate, the heaviness of his eyelids causing his vision to blur occasionally. “If you saw yourself and you didn’t leave here, earth I mean, then that rules out another option, doesn’t it?”

Liam looks down at Zayn and thinks back to the moment he’s talking about. He shivers, not out of being cold but from how foreign it’d been to look down at his own body and not be there. “Yeah, I guess,” he replies with his own soft tone.

“You didn’t,” Zayn blinks to right his gaze, “you didn’t follow them to the cemetery, did you? You didn’t say how long you stayed.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Liam doesn’t give him any more information than that, and Zayn knows that he probably won’t be able to hold on to any more of their conversation for too much longer.

“That’s the next place then.” He doesn’t miss the way Liam thinks about it either.

“You think so?”

Zayn nods against his pillow. “Think about it. You’ve been to the operating room and to your own funeral. What place else would you have to go?”

And sure, there are three major things that occur during death – the time and place of said death, the viewing slash funeral and the burial and so far, Liam’s done two out of three. Maybe there’s some connection there, going to the last place he’ll rest for well, ever.

“Tomorrow then,” Liam replies, his only hope that they can find something other than the circles they’ve been in so far.

Zayn hums in agreement before he's off in a world of dreams.

x.x.x.x

“I hope the plot is nice,” Liam murmurs as Zayn pulls up to the cemetery. He’d had to find a local newspaper for the obituary and see if there’d been anything written on it concerning where they’d buried Liam. Since Zayn hadn’t followed the hearse after the funeral, they were left on their own to find the place.

It’s located several miles away from the city. It’s not exactly out in the middle of nowhere, but there’s more trees that surround the place than houses, and the further they travel, the more Liam remembers his surroundings.

“I think my grandparents are buried out here,” he adds.

It’s not even small talk they’ve persuade themselves to use to keep something going between them. They’re used to the silence that tends to happen upon them whenever the conversation lulls and although Zayn and Liam had both thought that maybe it was best to keep it up, find some area of topic to discuss, they’ve both settled for remaining silent, each other’s presence good enough to give comfort despite the short time frame they’ve known one another in.

When Zayn pulls up to the gates, he brakes and sits idle while he survey’s the area. It doesn’t look like anyone’s out here today as far as he can see. It's a rather large piece of land, with trees and plenty of rocks scattered across the green grass as if they'd been resting there for longer than the date carved on them. It's more or less a stone garden that has an eerie sort of peace about it.

“Uhm, we may be here for awhile,” Zayn comments. There are graves upon graves scattered across the green grass. Some have flowers while others have little card stands that are planted into the grand near the headstone. For the most part, it looks clean, like a place that’s being taken care of.

“Turn here,” Liam says, breaking Zayn’s observation.

“Why?”

Liam’s pointing to his right while looking in that direction too. “I just… know.  Please, Zayn.” He looks over at the other lad who’s got his hands wrapped around the steering wheel.

“Okay.” He doesn’t question it, and he doesn’t accuse, just follows what Liam tells him until they’re pulling up to a little section of a plot towards the right of the cemetery. It’s near the middle, encompassed by a gathering of trees that bring shade to the area. It’s also a little ways off from the car path, so when they both get out of the car, they end up having to walk a few yards to get to the allotment itself where a gathering of headstones lay.

Directly on the outskirts of all the stones, there’s one that looks brand new. The brown of the dirt still shows through, the grass not having taken over it just yet to cover the fact that this area had recently been dug up.

Zayn ends up realizing that he’s closer to the grave than Liam is, who’s standing off to the side and hesitant to even go forward. “This is weird,” he admits. “Like, I’m here, but I’m not because I’m six foot down.”

He grimaces and takes the few paces forward so he’s standing at the end of the grave next to Zayn. There’s a light breeze that’s blowing that does nothing for him, but sends Zayn a nice wave of chills  regardless of the fact that the sun happens to shine through the leaves of the trees.

“This is a little weird for me too.” Zayn scratches at his neck and tries not to look uncomfortable. “You don’t feel anything?”

Liam shakes his head but then shrugs as if he’s changing his mind. “I did when we first got here. That’s how I knew where to go. There’s like uh,” he pauses, waves a hand around before snapping his fingers, searching for the right word, “some kind of pull that’s drawing me in. But I can’t do anything with it. It’s like, I can’t explain it. It’s not like I feel better or that I’m finally at peace but I feel relatively calm.” He then squats down and places his hand over the dirt, and although he can’t see Zayn, he can almost feel the stare that he’s giving him.

“Maybe we need to give it a couple of minutes?”

And Zayn normally wouldn’t do this. He’s already freaked out enough as it is, standing in the middle of a cemetery, albeit in broad daylight, but just, there’s a creepiness to it. He doesn’t feel incredibly off but it’s unnerving none the less. Zayn thinks he’s probably psyching himself out but he sits down next to Liam who eventually draws his hand back.

There is no handprint left in the dirt.

“So you don’t see anything? Or, I dunno, hear anything either?”

Liam sits down correctly so that he’s in a comfortable position. “I’m not the fucking ghost whisperer, Zayn.” He gives him a side-glance but snorts. “But no.” Liam glances around him, looks behind him too to see if maybe he can spot anything, but the entire area is empty, and he’s not sure whether he should be grateful or just plan sad. If there were anyone here, then maybe they’d be able to help, and that’s assuming that Liam’s not one of a kind. But then he thinks he should be glad that there aren’t others around like him because for one, who knows who they might be, if they’re angry and scary or if they’re just as sad and lonely as Liam’s beginning to feel and two, it means that no one is suffering like he is

That silence from the car comes back two-fold as they continue sitting underneath the shade of the large oak tree. Zayn’s busy picking at the grass around him while Liam’s got a determined eye set upon his own gravestone. It’s weird seeing his name carved into rock, a birth date and a death date that shouldn’t even be close to one another. There should be, at least what he thinks, a fifty year gap between those two numbers because no one’s supposed to die this young. Everyone deserves that chance, don’t they?

Liam closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, and it isn’t until Zayn clears his throat that he snaps. “This is fucking bullshit.” He huffs, and he also might cry as of this moment because this is another idea wasted. There’s a million and one things, just as Zayn had commented on before, that they could go through to figure out what’s keeping Liam here, and he honestly has no idea anymore.

It also makes him wonder if Zayn's really in it for the long hall. He'd said as much, both voice and eyes determined when Liam had been studying him last night during their talk. But even if Zayn did keep his promise to help him out, Liam's also pretty positive that Zayn will eventually run out of ideas and ways to aid him. Not everyone has an endless mind regardless of how much the brain can hold, and it wouldn't be fair either way because Zayn is probably only doing this because he feels obliged since Liam was his patient.

Other than that, there's really no reason for him to stick around, and maybe Liam should do this on his own, but then he thinks back to his confession of last night and how he didn’t want this for himself because it’s just so, so lonely. It's too quiet and the only person, as of now at least, he can talk to that can actually see him is his former doctor. They have no other relations besides that and this, this pains Liam because he’d rather not be someone's burden.

It’s defeat already, and he hates to think that that’s already become a part of who he is now, but what…

Liam growls out loud, ignoring his drawn out thoughts, and tries to kick at the dirt with his foot but it just goes through the ground. He’s at the point of the kind of angry and upset that leads to one of those huge emotional break downs and maybe he’s got no right to act this way yet, but it’s so vexatious. How is any of this fair?

“I give up,” he scoffs, shaking his head and standing up. “I do because I shouldn’t have to go through this.”

“Liam, what the fuck are you on about?” Zayn’s staring up at him like he’s lost his mind, but he’s sure he’d be just as overwhelmed as the other lad is right now. “You can’t do that.”

Liam glances down at Zayn with a hard look and a frown. “Yes, I can. I’ll leave you to it, and I’ll figure this thing out on my own, I guess.”

And Zayn gets it. He does because Liam’s affronted with a whole host of emotions that he hasn’t let out from waking up as a ghost. Zayn had been allowed his break down just hours ago, and now he thinks it’s time for Liam to have his, even if it is in the middle of a cemetery in front of the ghost’s very own grave.

“Don’t you remember what I told you?” Zayn stands up and brushes off his pants. He thinks it’s probably best to stay out of Liam’s way and let him cool down a moment, but he can’t do that, especially when something begins to tug in his chest.

“Of course,” Liam answers but dismisses his words quickly enough. “I don’t see how there could be anything else I’m stuck here for. The most plausible things are what we’ve done already and now we’re down to what? What ideas do we have left that are going to get me out of here, and too, where is _there_? There could be heaven. There could be hell.” By this point, he’s waving his arms around and having a full blown meltdown when another car eventually enters through the gates of the cemetery. It looks like they’re on the other side, far enough away from Zayn and Liam, but that doesn’t stop the internal groan that happens for Zayn because it means that he can’t raise his voice to try and settle Liam down.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

“Yeah, exactly. _Fuck_ is what’s going on here because this,” Liam points around, indicating nature around him and his own headstone, “is fucking wrong. This is purgatory? Because if it is, I don’t like it. I don’t like any of this, and _goddamnit_ I wish we had answers.”

And as soon as he yells the last word Liam flickers into thin air right before Zayn’s eyes, and he’s left scrambling, looking around in every direction. His eyes are impossibly huge, and he’s very aware that he has company in the cemetery so it’s not like he can shout, but holy god, Liam’s _gone_.

Zayn doesn’t know how he feels about this. Is this what they were hoping for, for Liam to suddenly disappear for good and descend into… well, wherever it is he’s supposed to go? He can feel his heart beating quickly, and a sense of panic overpowers him.

“Liam,” he hisses. It’s not overly loud, but he hopes it’ll get his attention. “Liam?” Zayn ends up repeating his name several times before he finally gives up. He takes another look at his surroundings, and he can’t help but feel abandoned all of a sudden. He doesn’t know whether to leave now or if the other lad will even come back. He kinda feels exactly how Liam did a moment ago except there’s no anger attached. It’s pure obscurity that leaves him shaky and nervous.

“Liam?” he says one more time. He directs his gaze onto the headstone to see if maybe that’ll do something, but all it helps him accomplish is realizing that this may really be the end. That Liam maybe gone for good now, and he figures that this was too easy. Way, way too easy for the both of them and it can’t just end like this, so abruptly, so harshly.

And with that thought, he also comes to the conclusion that he, well, Zayn might _miss_ Liam. Like good and well properly miss Liam and his company.

Zayn’s face falls as soon as that thought crosses his mind. Despite the ghost aspect, he’d gotten close to Liam for the short amount of time they've known one another. And sure, they’d had a few conversations in the hospital, but aiming for a specific goal had ultimately brought them together in a way that superseded an argument that they weren’t good friends yet.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there waiting for something to happen, but nothing does come. The wind continues to blow softly and the trees sway and create a peaceful tranquility. But it still feels so empty, so different now that Liam’s not a permanent fixture by his side.

So when Zayn decides to finally leave, with guilt hanging heavy on his conscious, he honestly believes he’s leaving something behind. Yet, there’s nothing here for him to take back with him but a memory of Liam. It seems almost like an enigma, like some sort of far away dream that had only affected him where the events will never be able to be retold or recounted to anyone else in fear they think he’s gone crazy.

No, Liam and his smile and his brown eyes and shaggy dirty blonde hair will remain behind Zayn’s eyelids, not just as a body in a casket or on the cusp of death, fading in and out of consciousness on a metal table, but as someone who’d been bright and worried and more than a two-dimensional piece within Zayn’s mind.

“I swear to god, if you leave me behind I am so finding a way to haunt your ass.”

Zayn nearly trips over a headstone and has to throw an arm out to stop himself from eating dirt. When he clambers up, standing tall, his path to his car is blocked by a body standing in front of him.

“Fucking _hell_ ,” he practically yells out loud, only realizing his voice has traveled when he ends up scaring a nest of birds all sitting in the trees because they fly off in a wave of fluttered wings and panic. And then there’s also the people on the other side of the cemetery that Zayn’s completely forgotten about who are blinking his way. They’re nothing more than bodies, faces a blurry mess from how far they are away from him but he sheepishly waves and wonders how this looks to the outside world.

“You’re a fucking ghost already, Liam. You can’t haunt me,” he explains, all the while keeping his gaze directed upon both the family paying their respects and Liam who looks a little wild in the eyes.

“Scared you once and I can scare you again.” Zayn’s pretty sure that line calls for Liam crossing his arms over his chest and cocking out a hip in some sassy move, but he doesn’t. Instead he just points at Zayn with narrowed eyes before taking off for the car, leaving Zayn’s brain to catch up with what’s going on before his feet finally get a move on too.

Zayn waits until he’s in his car before he turns to Liam in the passenger seat. There’s a whole host of questions he could ask right now but his mind is too busy stumbling over itself to figure out where to even begin.

So instead he settles for, “What in the bloody fucking hell was that?” And this point in time, if Liam weren’t actually a ghost, Zayn would probably reach over and slap Liam on the shoulder for being rude but he just needs to calm down right now and figure out what’s going on.

Liam looks abashed but happy all in one, like he’s a child that’s been given a huge secret, and he can’t wait to tell anyone who’s willing to listen. “Rentaghost,” Liam explains, smiling so wide his teeth show and his eyes nearly become invisible by his cheeks rising up so high.

Zayn, on the other hand, has no clue what the fuck he’s talking about. “Come again?” He’s still in a serious mindset unlike Liam who’s practically vibrating in his seat.

“Rentaghost, Zayn,” Liam tries to clarify, but it still makes no sense to him so Liam huffs in annoyance and tries again. “I teleported.”

Zayn’s gaze flicks away from Liam dubiously. “What?” His manners now can only be described as incredulous and waiting for Liam to further explain.

“You ask that an awful lot.”

“Liam,” Zayn presses.

“Alright, pushy. How about you get driving before they wonder if you’ve really lost your damn mind.” Liam points over to the group of people by the headstones. Some of them have completely lost interest in Zayn and his car, but there’s a good few that are still staring over, or at least trying not to get caught.

So Zayn turns on the car and exit the cemetery. “So if you can teleport,” Zayn tastes the word on his tongue because first there was Liam in ghost form to get used to and now he finds that teleportation exists all in the span of about five days. Zayn thinks he _should_ be rewarded for not going out of his mind yet. “Then where’d you go?”

“Yeah,” Liam drawls out before biting at his upper lip. “About that… see, it’s a bit weird, I’d say. But it’s given me an idea actually.”

Zayn focuses on driving and waits for Liam to continue on because as of this moment, he’s up for anything now, especially since the feeling in his chest has smoothed over and contentment has settled in.

“Okay, shoot,” Zayn says before quickly adding, “and by the way, don’t do that again unless you absolutely have to, yeah?” He briefly looks over at Liam before returning his attention to the road, and in those few seconds the smile on Liam’s face changes. It’s still happy, and it hasn’t fallen away either, but it’s more relaxed.

“You were worried, weren’t you?” A cheeky little look replaces Liam’s smile until Zayn tries to deny it.

“No, I just, I thought maybe you had left. Like maybe something had happened like we’d planned.” But that all-knowing look doesn’t go away and Zayn’s left sighing, “A little. Just, a little.”

Liam lets out a laugh before adding, “Well, just so you know, I got a little worried too when I showed up at my ex-girlfriend’s house. I figured I’d gone to hell, especially without saying goodbye to you.”

At this point, Zayn completely disregards the rest of Liam’s sentences, completely hung up on the fact that Liam not only had an ex-girlfriend (Zayn’s not going to lie, Liam’s a bit attractive, and still the thought throws him off) but he also ended up there not even ten minutes ago.

“Maybe I’m just lost, but I could’ve sworn you just said you ended up at an ex’s house.”

By now they’re down the road from Zayn’s house, and Liam asks if they can wait until they’re inside to finish their conversation because it’s probably going to get slightly more engaging, to which Zayn comments that it can't be any more interesting that what’s already taken place between the two of them. Liam ends up agreeing, though he thinks he’d like Zayn to be sitting down for this next part because his plans involve him specifically.

“Yeah, so, about the whole ex thing. I don’t know why I showed up there.” Zayn’s currently sat on the couch while Liam paces in front of the coffee table. He’s very flighty as of this moment by talking with his hands and thoughts a bit jumbled. “Maybe I kinda do, but that story comes later. The point is, and what I’m really trying to get at, is the whole rentaghost thing.”

Liam’s not exactly overly restless, but what he’s about to delve into is a bit much, a little too forward, especially since his plan practically relies on Zayn, and he knows that he’s going to have to paint a very convincing picture in order to get him to go along with it.

“Rentaghost? You keep saying this. I don’t get it,” Zayn stresses.

Liam pauses in his steps to face Zayn. “It was some show in the seventies where ghosts were hired, you know, rented out to haunt places or various other things. But that’s not the reference I’m talking about. It’s used in _Being Human_. It’s about the supernatural, yeah?" Liam uses his hands again to emphasis his words, looking larger than life trying to explain what he knows to Zayn. "And a character, a ghost named Annie, calls her teleporting rentaghost,” Liam continues looking at Zayn to make sure he’s listening, watching for him to nod so he knows he’s following along. “Anyway, she died, right? But she was stuck on earth because something was keeping her behind. It wasn’t about visiting places or trying to find some physical connection to her death.”

“I’ve got it so far but I don’t get what you’re implying,” Zayn comments. They're getting somewhere, he can tell, but they're not there yet and Zayn's still holding out a bit of hope. He watches as Liam takes a seat on the other couch while he rests his elbows on his knees. He’s buzzing with an energy Zayn’s never seen before and he can’t tell whether he likes it or not. It’s too wiry and all over the place, but it also as him excited at the prospect that Liam’s actually come up with an idea about moving on.

“The reason she stayed behind as a ghost was because her fiancé killed her, and she couldn’t remember that. Ghosts in the show stay behind because they have some sort of unfinished business,” Liam’s eye brows raise up and he blinks. Zayn only continues to nod along with what he’s saying. “Which means that since Annie found out about her death, her unfinished business had been to confront her boyfriend and when she did – this is the best part – a door appears to the afterlife.”

Zayn licks his lips and waits for Liam to say anything else, but he doesn’t and it’s obvious by the look on his face that he’s expecting something, anything really from Zayn but he’s not sure what to give him. It sounds like a plausible idea; they really have nothing to go on so it can’t hurt but if this is only half the idea, from a tv show nonetheless, then Zayn can only imagine what the rest entails.

He’s a bit skeptical when he speaks up next, not because he doesn’t believe what Liam’s going after, but there’s a bit of dread in his stomach, filled with the idea that he might end up having to do or say something, at the very least, that he’s not going to enjoy. And it’s not like any of this has been all too pleasant either, but somehow Zayn knows that this is only the beginning to a very, very unusual next couple of days.

“So let me get this straight before you go into anything else,” he specifies, “You think you have unfinished business that you need to take care of before you can pass over?

“Yes!” Liam nearly shouts. “Of course there’s more to it, you know, the actual unfinished business part of it all, but yeah. That’s the general idea.”

“Alright, so we’ve got a new game plan. We make a list of things you need complete, and maybe that’ll work.” Zayn gives Liam an encouraging look like he’s all aboard with whatever it is that Liam comes up with, but then Liam’s entire demeanor changes, and Zayn’s left sinking back down in his seat. “Okay, that’s not all of it, is it? Go ahead.”

“Well,” Liam says, extending the L’s in the world. “See, since people can’t see me, and I can’t seem to touch material objects either, I’m going to need some help completing these tasks because I can’t do them on my own. I can’t really, technically, complete these tasks on my own.”

Zayn raises a brow like Liam should know he’s not going to abandon him now. “We’ve been through two days of shit, Liam. I’m pretty sure that whatever you have in mind, I’m going to be okay with.”

But Liam doesn’t look convinced. “Just, give me a few days to come up with a good list of things I think I need to fix, and if I can’t, then we’ll use the few that I do have in mind that I know for a fact you’re not going to be okay with.”

It sounds dreadful the way the other lad is wording it, and maybe Zayn should have some reservations, but he’s positive they can’t be as bad as visiting one’s own funeral or the place where one’s died either. Zayn said he’d help Liam, and he meant it.

He’s also a little hesitant to admit to himself that he gets to spend more time with Liam too now that what they’ve done so far hasn’t worked out. Zayn thinks he should most definitely be reconsidering his emotions on this entire thing because as tragic and weird as it is, Liam’s a ghost and Zayn can’t afford to get too attached, mentally and well, physically, if that were even possible. This just puts a whole new meaning on _you can look but you can’t touch_.

x.x.x.x

It takes Liam a week and a half to come up with a list, and mostly it’s the ideas he had in mind when both he and Zayn had had that conversation awhile ago. It’s not the most brilliant thing he’s done, but Liam’s pretty sure that if one of these on his checklist doesn’t cure him of his ghostly presence, then he might as well give up and learn to live as a ghost as best as he can.

Currently, they’re at the hospital because Zayn’s exhausted his time away from there, although Zayn’s pretty sure it’s because this week they’re short-staffed and they’d called him in regardless of his protests. He knew he’d end up having to go into work at some point, but he hadn’t wanted to this soon.

It wasn’t until Liam had found out about the phone calls from the hospital that he’d told Zayn to go in because people needed help, that that was his job and there was no point in making people suffer if he could be a solution to their problem.

But Zayn hadn’t been incredulous when he’d gotten up on the morning he was supposed to go in. He fought with Liam, trying to convince the both of them that he really didn’t need to go until Liam had asked him why he felt he couldn’t return to the hospital. In fact, Liam had abruptly asked Zayn why he’d taken time off in the first place until Zayn was left speechless and agreeing immediately that he’d go in to work.

It’s nearly nine in the evening now, and Zayn’s at his desk filing through paperwork after a long day. Normally he’s off earlier than this since he tends to wake up at nearly the crack of dawn and maybe even earlier than that because people can be utterly stupid, especially those in the ER, but he’s by himself right now, no clue where Liam’s run off to this time around.

Liam’s taken to disappearing, trying improve his teleportation skills (also scaring Zayn more times than he can count because of it) while also trying to see if he can get to a point where he can touch inanimate objects. So far, he’s had no luck but at least it keeps him entertained while Zayn works and distracted from the way that Zayn’s been tense the entire time he’s been back at the hospital. He feels like he hasn’t been doing good enough, doesn’t feel the same as when he’d first began the job because at that point he hadn’t had any deaths on his hand and while they’ve assigned him to lower cases for the time being until his supervisor feels he’s ready for something bigger, he gets the idea that he may never be the in right state of mind to perform another surgery again.

And of course he’s being down on himself, but it’s not like he has anyone to tell. Some of the other nurses give him looks of pity, like they know what he’s going through but he’s not sure if they really understand. Some of those nurses had already been in rooms where other patients hadn’t made it through, mainly used to the idea that not everyone lives through some surgeries, and when they smile at Zayn or when they clap his shoulder in a friendly gesture, he understands what they’re silently trying to tell him, and he hates it so much. He just doesn’t have the resolve to tell them to cut it out.

Zayn’s nearly finished with his paper work when Liam suddenly pops into the room. Zayn’s too busy looking at the paper on his desk to actually see Liam appear, but he’s gotten used to the temperature changes when Liam’s there and when he’s not. It’s a good indication that Liam’s about ready to scare him or not. Zayn’s trying; he really is.

But when Zayn looks up over the desk, he finds that Liam’s not sitting in a chair in front of him, and he’s not standing up either. Instead he’s near the door to the office, sitting on the ground, back nearly pressed up against the wall with a forlorn look on his face. His eyes look red, and his face is completely blotchy.

“What’s wrong?” Zayn says immediately, standing up from his seat until Liam shakes his head and closes his eyes. Zayn doesn’t listen to the request to stay away though, instead he opts to go over to Liam and sit on the floor near him. “C’mon, Liam, something happened.”

Zayn has a feeling he knows what’s wrong, but he’s not entirely sure. Liam had come back some days, a sadness in his eyes explaining he’d witnessed things he probably shouldn’t have seen going on in the building. He’d ended up asking if this was what Zayn dealt with on a daily basis, walking around in a place that smelled of death and disease and if he was truly okay with working here.

He’d ended up telling Liam that he hadn’t dealt with it often enough to be affected by it, at least not until recently.

“I sat with this old woman,” Liam says, voice cracking that only has Zayn on edge. “Her family was there, and some of them were crying, but she couldn’t even speak because she’d had a stroke.” Liam swallows down the thickness in his throat before he presses on. “She only had movement in a few fingers, enough to squeeze their hand to let them know she could hear her but that was it.” His eyes are welling up with tears now, and Zayn watches on because he can feel his own emotions get the better of him. “She couldn’t do anything for herself, and can you imagine the life she got live? The things she got to do and see and something as simple as a stroke got the best of her and withered her down into practically nothing. And I watched. I sat in corner of the room as she let go, and then she was standing right beside me, glowing with no more pain.”

His hands fly up to his face, rubbing at his eyes and trying to get rid of the burning sensation of the tears that threaten to fall. “And a door appeared, Zayn. So it’s true. There’s a door, and it leads somewhere, and now, now I don’t know what I want. I want to go because this isn’t my place, is it? To be stuck like this, but we’re not meant for sorrow either. We’re meant to be happy, and as far as I can tell, this isn’t it.

“Yet sometimes, sometimes it feels like it is because I’m here and getting to do incredible things only ghosts can do, I suppose, but more importantly it’s with you.” At this point, Liam’s removed his hands from his eyes in order to shift himself forward, closer to Zayn. He looks tired, more so than usual, which is saying much given that Liam doesn’t actually sleep. “And I don’t know why that is, why I feel like that’s special. But if I, if I tell you these things, my idea that might help me move on and what I need you to do, you’re going to learn about me, and you’re going to probably think less of me and then if I have to leave, you’re stuck with memories of helping out someone who’s done more wrongs than they know what to do with.”

And Zayn’s heart splits right in two because what the hell had brought this on? Liam had been here roaming around the place all by himself for days now and this is the point where he crumbles?

“Liam,” Zayn croaks, finding that his voice is just as raw as Liam’s. He doesn’t know what to say though, doesn’t know what to do to make this better, and before he realizes it, he reaches out a hand towards Liam. His hand hovers above Liam’s for a moment or two, and he just stares at it because what he would give to curl his fingers around Liam’s in comfort, wrap him up in his arms right now so that Liam can have a good cry, probably something he’s needed for a good while now.

“Zayn, it’s not going to work,” Liam insists. And Zayn just nods in agreement as he lowers his hand down and passes right through Liam’s figure. His entire hand becomes cold, and for a moment Zayn thinks he feels the soft brush of skin against skin but it disappears all too suddenly and he’s left with Liam’s chill because the other lad can’t find it in himself to move his hand either.

From there, Liam tries to suck in a breath, or what was once his ability to breathe, because the tears are on his cheeks now, blurring his vision. His chest feels tight, and so much anger courses through his veins because none of this is right. “We have to do this, Zayn. I’m out of options, and this is going to be ridiculous and probably more than a little painful but I can’t stay like this, no matter how much I want to.” Liam’s so close to Zayn now, having moved to sit by his side and wonder what it would feel like just to feel again. “You’ve been so great, so nice and helpful, and I don’t know why that is but there was something about you the day we met, and it pains me to say I don’t think we’ll ever know what could’ve happened.”

Zayn looks on, his hand still curled against Liam’s. The coldness is still there and his hand is more or less hovering, but he’d like to pretend he can feel Liam just this once.

“Liam, whatever it is you want or need me to do, I’ll do it, okay?” Zayn reassures. He pulls his arm back then, heat returning to both his hand and wrist. “We’ll find a way because I promised that, and you deserve so much more than this.” He completely ignores most of what Liam had mentioned, but Zayn can’t bring himself to insert his own feelings on the subject because this is about Liam, and Liam shouldn’t be the one upset, shouldn’t be the one crying because of his situation.

Liam was supposed to have a death, was supposed to have something permanent and not lasting like he’s dealing with right now. And Zayn, more than anyone, is going to give him that, give him what he deserves because Liam - now that Zayn’s gotten to know him - is something he’s never known before, and it only makes the question on why bad things happen to good people all the more authentic.

“Tell me what we need to do, yeah, so we can fix it and get you out of here.”

Zayn would be more than lying if he said that wasn’t the hardest thing he’s ever had to say.

x.x.x.x

“This is more like an episode of _My Name Is Earl_ than anything else,” Zayn admits. They’re currently sitting in Zayn’s car, parked in front of a house with a white picket fence and a neat, green front yard.

“You said you’d help,” Liam reminds him, staring out of the window and looking over the expanse of the place.

“And I will, I guess, but I don’t think apologizing to a best friend is what’s forcing you to remain here on earth. This doesn’t sound like some sort of unfinished business to me.”

Liam huffs before he teleports out of the car and waits on Zayn to climb out too. “Good thing what I say goes, otherwise with your logic nothing on my list would actually be on my list.”

Zayn ends up walking around the car to join Liam on the sidewalk. He stares up at the house just as Liam had and feels nervousness course through his body because when Liam said Zayn was going to have to help him out with his idea, he literally mean that Zayn’s going to have to execute his ideas for him.

“You’re sure, like absolutely positive that no one can see you? Because if they can, if this lad can possibly see you, then I don’t have to go inside and apologize on your behalf.” Zayn wrings his hands together feeling the need to turn right back around so he can leave.

“Zayn,” Liam says, voice dropping low so he knows he’s serious.

Zayn only whines before he sucks it up. “Okay.” He’s still reluctant, but all he has to do is get this over with and they can get out of here. He tries telling himself that it’ll be okay, but most of this depends on the person living inside that house’s reaction.

“Shit,” Liam suddenly whispers which only causes Zayn to become slightly paranoid and turn his head to look at Liam.

“What?”

Liam’s eyes are a little wide but he shakes his head and holds a finger up to his lips. “Someone’s looking out the window.”

And that makes Zayn freeze up completely because this is more than a shit situation. This is the perfect opportunity for people to think he’s fucking crazy.

“Don’t talk anymore,” Liam recommends before he’s walking forward. Zayn carefully watches as he walks up the sidewalk of the house before he’s yelling at Zayn to follow him. “Act natural, casual even as if you were just making sure you had the right house number. Introduce yourself quickly, apologize and then we can leave. It’s that simple.” He sounds flustered but Zayn thinks he doesn’t have the right to be because again, Zayn’s doing this for Liam, and no one can even see him anyway so there shouldn’t’ be any fear there.

Zayn eventually catches up with Liam though and has a hard time reaching forward to ring the door bell. As soon as he musters up the courage to press the button, he realizes that he has no idea what he’s supposed to say. They hadn’t really rehearsed any of this because Liam had been adamant on getting it done, especially after his breakdown just a few days prior. He’d told Zayn his first idea, to which Zayn had been okay with it in the beginning because Liam had said he’d give him a bit more time to work up to the idea of going to Liam’s best friend’s house.

“How do I know you?” Zayn whispers, side-glancing Liam. The other lad gives him an odd look as if Zayn should already know this until it dawns on him that _oh_ , they hadn’t come up with an excuse as to how Zayn had known Liam. Sure, they could say that Zayn was Liam’s doctor, but that’d be even weirder if decided to go with that.

Liam has no time to answer though before the door opens and Liam’s met with one of his best friends. They’d been mates since their childhood, always kept in contact, and it wasn’t until recently that Liam had felt bad for not keeping tabs on him while he’d been away at school.

The moment is tense, and everyone just stands there until someone finally speaks up.

“Can I help you?” There’s an incredulous look on the man’s face and at this point in time, Zayn would probably look to Liam for some help but if he’d been the one staring through the blinds on the window, there’s a good chance, as expressed by his facial features, that he already thinks Zayn’s a bit weird.

“Fucking say something,” Liam ushers before trying to run a hand down Zayn’s arm.

It gets his attention, makes him pull back too quickly, and he’s positive he looks a little off balance.

“Uhm, is uh-” Zayn struggles for words although they’re on the tip of his tongue.

“Marcus,” Liam leans over just a bit and whispers. Zayn can’t see him but he thinks that maybe, possibly, Liam’s relaxed now, which isn’t completely adequate given that he’s over here sweating from being unprepared while the other lad is more than likely enjoying his clumsiness.

“Marcus, is he here?” Zayn finally gets out. He rubs his hands on his pants because they’ve gone a bit sweaty.

“That’s me,” the guy at the door says. He’s not overly buff or anything, so it’s not like Zayn’s actually afraid of him because of his size, but this is more than intimidating, and right now, Zayn’s pretty sure he’d be scared of anyone who answered the door. “Who’s asking?”

“Zayn,” he says at first before adding, “Malik. I’m, uh, I’m here on Liam’s behalf.”

And at that, the entire mood shifts. Marcus’ shoulders slump, and he shifts slightly so he’s leaning on the door frame more than he had been before.

“Oh, you knew him?” His tone isn’t completely friendly either, but it’s a lot softer, less on guard now that they share a common interest.

“Yes, sort of,” Zayn answers. He feels the tension seep away and maybe this isn’t going to be as bad as he originally thought.

“Do you want to come in?” Marcus suddenly asks, widening the door open for a moment, but Zayn shakes his head. It’s best if he didn’t because Liam had said to be quick about this, that there are other things on his list that need taking care of. He hadn’t said anything to Zayn about what they were, convinced that there was a right time to expose the truth instead of putting too much on Zayn at one time.

“No, sorry. I have somewhere to be but I figured I’d stop by since I was in the neighborhood.” It’s a laughably cliché excuse, but Zayn knows that this had been Liam’s friend, someone he probably confided in and cherished at one point, had each other’s backs and were all around good mates who could get drunk and look out for one another.

Marcus waits for Zayn, not having anything to say, so he takes a breathe, briefly feels the way that Liam brushes up against his arm, the coolness soaking into his skin to let him knows he’s there. He’d much rather feel Liam himself rather than just a shift in the temperature, but he’ll take what he can get.

“Liam had this list,” Zayn begins, stuffing his hands into his jacket pocket just to move so he’s not standing completely still for too long. “He’d written it awhile ago, I’m assuming, and on it where things he felt like he needed to apologize for, but obviously he uh, didn’t have the chance to get around to it so I figured I’d help him out.” He pauses for a moment, let’s his words sink into the atmosphere around them so that Marcus understands where he’s coming from. “It might not make much of a difference considering it’s not from Liam himself, and it’s coming from a complete stranger but,” Zayn almost snorts at his next thought, smiles too before continuing, “Liam’s completely sorry for not standing up to those bullies on the playground when you were younger.”

Zayn’s not sure what’s right and wrong anymore, how silly this might be or if Marcus is going to slam the door in his face, but he gets an overwhelming sense of sadness about this because well, for Marcus for having to put up with people’s bullshit for whatever reason he’d been bullied (Liam had made a direct point in not telling Zayn, claiming what happened had happened and that the issues of that time were minor details that didn’t need explaining) and for Liam, for not having the guts or even the strength to stand up for his friend, who died before he could apologize about something that had obviously been eating at his mind for quite some time if he considered this little house call important enough for him to believe that correcting his wrong would send him back to the afterlife.

But as Zayn looks on, it looks like Marcus knows exactly what Zayn’s talking about.

“He really wrote that down?”

It’s not that Zayn doesn’t know how to answer, but he tries his best to subtly glance over at Liam, who happens to look upset, before Liam’s shaking his head. “Tell him yes. Tell him I remembered.”

Zayn licks the front of his teeth before nodding, “Yeah, he did. He remembered.”

Marcus gives a small laugh and a smile. “Then I hope he knows that I forgive him for that a long time ago. He always thought he had to save everyone, do right by everyone but Liam, he was human, you know? Couldn’t save the world no matter how hard he tried, but he thought he could. And I think that’s what mattered most.”

After that, Zayn feels completely at ease, and they only talk for a few minutes more, Liam completely silent the entire time, before Zayn gives his goodbye’s to Marcus and makes his way to his car.

By the time he gets there, Liam’s already sitting in the passenger’s seat, staring out of the window and it isn’t until Zayn buckles his seat belt, turns the car on and pulls onto the road that Liam eventually comments.

“Thank you,” he discloses. “I know it was more or less awkward, but thank you.”

Zayn can only smile at Liam quickly before keeping his eyes on the road. He feels better himself and can only imagine how Liam feels too. “You’re welcome.”

“I feel good, you know. I mean, apparently that isn’t the reason I’m stuck here, is it?”

The mood around them has changed, they both notice from when they’d first met and up to this point. Liam feels a lot more relaxed, happier that maybe there’s going to be a positive end to his so called life. And it makes it all the better knowing that Zayn’s with him, willing to do so much, probably more than Liam ever could imagine. As much as Marcus had claimed he was a nice person, willing to do good things for those he knew, he can’t help but think he wouldn’t be as generous as Zayn, or anyone else for that matter, were he in Zayn's position. It’s probably a difficult thing for the other lad, knowing that Liam had been Zayn’s patient at one point and abruptly shown up again in his life, his personal life to be precise.

But as much as Liam thinks that, he’s kind of glad it turned out the way that it did. Sure, death isn’t exactly what people want. Given the choice, he figures most would opt for immortality just to see the world and experience all they can’t in one lifetime, but this, it’s not so bad when there’s at least one person to share it with. And now he understands what it means to rely on someone more than anyone would family. Liam’s never really had that support system before, and to know that Zayn’s giving it to him willingly, well, it’s more than he could’ve asked for.

Which is why when they end up at Zayn’s house, Liam thinks the next thing on his list will have to wait. There are a few minor things he’s sure he can get Zayn to do for him before he reveals his next little plan in which they’ll suffer because it’s a lot deeper than some childhood friend, bless Marcus all the same. It’s well, more complicated, and Liam’s not quite sure how well it’ll go over.

“Mind if I eat something before we head off again?” Zayn asks Liam. He cuts the engine of the car when he’s parked and waits for Liam’s approval before they head inside.

x.x.x.x

Zayn’s just now getting to take a break from work when Liam appears in the middle of the hallway. There are too many people around so Liam has the advantage of talking to him without Zayn protesting.

“So, I know you’ve been busy but if we’re going to try my next idea, it’s going to have to be today.” Liam frowns, but keeps up with Zayn as he continues to walk.

Zayn just gives him a tight-lipped smile until he can get into his office and lock the door. It’s frustrating beyond belief when Liam does this because it means that Liam’s able to say whatever the fuck he wants without Zayn’s input whatsoever. It also had Liam, on the occasion, say some very interesting things to see how far he could coerce Zayn until he couldn’t take it anymore.

It’s like pushing his buttons so see how much he can take before he snaps, only in this case, it’s how far can he keep up the façade before he gives himself away to his colleagues. Liam finds it hilarious. Zayn, not so much.

“You’re probably wondering why it has to be today of all days, especially since I’ve given you small little things here and there – and by the way, I _am_ sorry about having you shell out another couple of pounds because I stole that one time. That was definitely my fault, and you know if I had my wallet I’d pay you back but….” Liam shakes his head after he trails off. “God, I even get myself off topic. Okay, point being is that she’s home on her day off, and it’s the perfect opportunity to go and talk to her. Then again, maybe not given you might just ruin the rest of her day, depending on how well she takes it but I think we’ve waited long enough.”

Liam’s rambling now, Zayn knows. He’s only done this a few occasions when he’s rather nervous, and this has him more shaken up than when they’d seen Marcus or any of the other various tasks that Liam’s made him do.

Like the other day, when Liam made Zayn buy a goldfish to make up for the fact that he killed his sister’s years ago without actually admitting to it. Zayn, on the other hand, didn’t mind spending the money to buy a fish, didn’t think accidentally killing an animal was enough to warrant Liam being stuck on earth but, it made Liam happy, certainly made him feel better and of course, that’s all that mattered.

Now though, now’s a bit different, especially if Liam’s jittery like this. It has Zayn already confounded.

When they get to Zayn’s office, he makes a quick call before he gives Liam all of his attention. “Sorry, had to let someone know if I'm going to be leaving work early. Now what is it?”

Liam stands in the center of the room, shifting on his feet and trying his best to utter the right words that will make this okay, to explain it to Zayn because yeah, he already feels like shit for what he’s done, but now it’s actually having to confront it.

“This next one is going to be a little more.... frivolous.” Liam bites at his lip hoping he doesn’t gnaw it off.

“This is bigger than Marcus, isn’t it?”

“That’s what she said,” Liam points, and while the humor is not lost on Zayn (because he actually cracks a smile – hey, it’s been a long day) it only means that Liam’s more antsy than he originally thought.

“Explain.”

“You know when I said I rentaghosted to my ex-girlfriend’s house that one time?”

Zayn ponders the memory for a second or two. “Yeah, I think I do, you know, when you popped off to god knows where and left me there like a dumbass.”

“Sorry,” Liam lifts his shoulders and grins timidly. “But well, see, there’s a couple of reasons why that might’ve happened,” he admits. “See, I broke up with her and didn’t exactly give her a reason as to why I did. Also,” he nervously laughs, “in the process of doing that, I kind of hooked up with one of her best friends.”

Zayn’s eyes widen and he leans his head forward as if he hadn’t heard. “Excuse me?”

“I didn’t cheat! I swear on my… life? No, my grave? okay. I’m not that cruel. But, but,” he draws out, while holding a hand out towards Zayn, hoping he’ll give him the benefit of the doubt for just a moment. “At the time I was going through some things, you know teenage angst and all, and I thought I’d date her to get my mind off of it.”

Zayn purses his lips this time before sitting down in his office chair. “What exactly is _it_?”

Liam then chooses that moment to sit down in one of the seats that faces Zayn’s desk. “That I wasn’t entirely straight.”

Zayn’s eyesbrows practically skyrocket off his forehead. An exaggeration, clearly, but still. He can practically feel the skin taut from surprise, and a speechlessness grasp his tongue. And it’s not like Zayn doesn’t understand the woes of figuring out ones sexuality, but this simply implies that he dated a girl, probably, well, not even probably, he definitely dated a girl to pretend to be straight and when he felt like he couldn’t tell this young lass he bolted and hooked up with someone else.

Someone preferably of his caliber. Not that the woman wasn’t, surely, pretty. But.

“Wow does this make things complicated,” Zayn breathes out. “Holy shit, Liam.” He’s kind of amazed, if he’s honest because while Zayn had to eventually come out to his family, it wasn’t even half as dramatic as this sounds. He then briefly wonders if his parents knew.

“Thing is,” Liam eventually continues.

“There’s more to it?” Zayn says straight-faced.

“Look, it’s not like I’m proud but I was scared. I didn’t tell a lot of people, especially not her because I didn’t want her to think that what we had was a complete lie. That would’ve been callous and we were nearly best friends. She was good to me, and I tried to be in return that but it wasn’t what I wanted.”

Liam pulls at the end of the hospital gown, the one Zayn’s nearly gotten used to by now, before his eyes flicker back up to Liam’s. There’s remorse written across his face, and Zayn leans back in his seat, completely exhausted after today’s events and Liam’s admission.

“And where do I fall in to all of this?” Zayn reluctantly asks because he knows that if this is something major to Liam, he’s going to have to take great care in how he approaches this too.

“Well, you’re going to tell her and apologize.” Liam says it as if it’s matter of fact, but Zayn, yeah, he’s not sure what to do with that information.

Sitting up straight in his chair, he leans forward slightly over the desk so he can look at Liam directly. “Are you telling me you want me to come out for you? I can’t just, I don’t know, apologize on your behalf for breaking her heart?”

But Liam shakes his head. “No, I lied to her and then ended up with one of other friends, and that’s not fair. She thinks I’m completely dead, and she has no clue, no idea the real reason why I left with no way to find out the truth, and that upsets me because I _knew_ she deserved better but I couldn’t do it. I’m a coward, I get that, and I’m a coward now for even having you do this. But I’ve got no other choice, no other way to make it right, and it’s gotta be done.”

Zayn closes his eyes and tries to picture the scene, how all of this will play out but there’s too many factors to really predict an outcome so he gives up and finally agrees with Liam. “Alright, but I definitely figured this whole sexuality crisis was over with for me, and now I’m having to come out again... for you.” He rubs at his neck and stands up from his seat to take off his coat and hang it up, grabbing his keys and anything else he needs before shoving them into his pocket. “Just so you know,” he points out, “while I don’t have too much of a horrible feeling about this, it doesn’t sit well with me either.”

Liam looks up at Zayn trough his eyelashes. “All I can say is I told you so, that this wasn’t going to be easy.”

And sure as hell, Zayn’s learning that it’s not going to be.

x.x.x.x

“Zayn, we need do this now.”

Zayn holds up a finger. “You’re the one who’s gets to play invisible. You let me take my time.” He’s trying to get into a good mindset, telling himself that he can do this, that this’ll be a breeze, but if anything, that’s a fucking lie because Zayn has never been able to handle women accordingly and this, by telling Liam’s ex about why he did her wrong is probably, most certainly, going to lead to tears.

And Zayn, as much as he can admit to crying on his own, cannot, for the life of him handle others. (Yes, he remembers the exception with Liam, but it’s _Liam_ and not anyone else. Well, or so he thinks.)

Finally after a couple of moments in silence, Zayn finally opens the car door and heads out. Liam’s right behind him as he heads up to the front door of the apartment complex. It’s a nice little place, it seems at least. It could definitely be an illusion with annoying neighbors and whatnot.

“I’m still not ready for this,” Zayn admits, even after trying to help himself focus in the car. The closer he gets to the door, the more the worry is settling in because this is slightly different than Marcus and his situation with Liam. This had played a bigger role in two people’s lives, and Zayn here is going to be the one responsible for shattering a fallacy.

“You can do it, Zayn. I’ll be right here, and I’ll help you along like last time. It’s all going to work out.”

Zayn glances at him before grimacing as they walk up a flight of stairs. “Please don’t promise because that’ll jinx it all and at this point, I can’t afford that.” The need to bolt overpowers him and for a moment he pauses, almost tripping on one of the steps. He swears he sees Liam try to reach out and catch him but he snorts because even if he tried, Zayn would end up with something broken at the bottom of the stairs.

“The shit I go through with for you,” he mutters. But Liam just gives him a smile to let Zayn know he’s grateful. “Which one is it?” he asks when they get to the top of the stairs.

Liam ends up walking over to a door labeled with a number in gold. Zayn eventually trails behind until he’s in front of the door too. He’s reluctant to knock but the best thing to do is to dive right in because if he doesn’t, he’s sure he’ll stand here for another good ten minutes or so before actually finding the courage (which wouldn’t even be courage, it’d be more impulse than anything) to do so.

“Here goes nothing,” he says before raising his hand up and pressing it against the door. It’s not exactly tense between him and Liam right now; it’s more of a stillness, a silence of sorts where they’re waiting on the edge of a very unpredictable situation.

Zayn hears someone yell out from behind the door that they’ll be just a second so he waits on baited breathe until he hears them mess with the locks on the door until it opens slightly revealing a woman who looks no older than Zayn.

“Hi,” she says, “Can I help you?”

Zayn loses his train of thought briefly. She’s a gorgeous thing with tan skin, curly, auburn hair that stops just a bit past her shoulder and wide, dark brown eyes.

“Yes,” Zayn eventually says, and hopes that he’s not already coming off as a little strange, or creepy. There’s nothing in her eyes to indicate that she thinks he’s a threat, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. “I’m looking for a woman named Hanna,” he says quickly. He already knows it’s her from Liam’s description but it’s best to play formal than knowing too much.

“That’s me,” she says with a smile.

“Well,” he starts, not quite sure how to being. He rubs the fingertips of his right hand together in order to release some sort of pent up energy within. “I suppose there’s not really a polite way of going about this, but I’m here about Liam Payne. You were his ex, right?” He goes slow at first, drawing the words out and trying his best to look sincere. He can feel Liam by his side, who’s shuffling, and he can’t imagine what he must be going through, seeing this young woman again for the first time in awhile.

“Uh, yeah, I was.” Her smile drops a bit, body relaxing too from a memory she seems to be recalling. She doesn’t zone out completely, but there’s a distant look in her eyes. “I was told he passed a couple of days ago though.”

“Yeah, unfortunately he did. But uh, well I’ve got some stuff to discuss with you, about him, I mean. That is if you’re willing to listen.”

Hanna must’ve read something in his tone because she suddenly looks a bit frantic before calming down. She pats at her pockets and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and holds them up. “I take it what you’re here for is a lot heavier in discussion, and it’s too early for alcohol, so, you’ll join me?” She points over the railing of the building, indicating that that’s apparently where she goes to relieve her own stress. Zayn can’t tell whether he’s surprised or relieved that she actually smokes, wonders if she saves it for special occasions.

“Sure,” he admits. He walks over with to the metal bars, where the stairs are located just to his right before she takes out a fag and offers him one. He takes it, missing the way the smoke feels against his insides. He’d had a habit of it once, long before he’d become a doctor but he figured it wasn’t very ethical for him to not practice what he preached. Every now and then, when things are a bit over whelming, he’ll have a smoke or two to calm his nerves.

When he’s leaning over the railing, he takes a brief moment to glance over his shoulder, back at Liam who’s now pressing up against the wall of the apartment building. He’s not looking at Zayn whatsoever, but his gaze is focused on Hanna, and Zayn can only read his face to know that he’s beyond guilty.

“So, you two must’ve been close if it means you drove all the way out here just to talk about him.”

Zayn tries not to choke as he releases the smoke of the cigarette, not because he hasn’t practiced and gotten accustomed to how it feels inside his body, but because Hanna is a lot blunter than he thought she’d be.

“Not really. Depends on how you look at it, I guess.”

“Must’ve been something then, especially if you’re here about our relationship though.” And it’s not meant to be a low blow or anything like that. She has every right to be suspicious of Zayn in the sense that now she’s more vulnerable because she gets that Zayn knows more about her and Liam than he probably should.

But really, it’s not like that. Zayn doesn’t know everything, only the reason why it ended, and while that’s a rather large part in a relationship of the past, it’s not the full story. Zayn wonders if it was beautiful. If they were good together, and if they had fun. Obviously Liam hadn’t been happy, but he said he’d tried for both of their sake. It couldn’t have been all that bad.

“I don’t know as much as you think I do,” he says resolutely. “I’m just here about why he broke up with you.” He figured, definitely thought he’d have to be fragile with this, but now that he gets the way that Hanna works, how she process things and says them aloud, it makes him realize that straight to the point is going to be the best course of action.

She snorts and shakes her head. Her cigarette is almost gone by now, and Zayn wonders if she’s taken up the habit only recently or if she’s done this for a lot long longer than he knows.

“Right, as much as Liam was nice, he had a way with words, he did. Didn’t even tell me anything that was going on with him although we’d been together for over a year. I thought he trust me enough to let me know something was wrong.”

She sounds bitter, and it makes Zayn flinch. He doesn’t bother looking back at Liam because the other lad probably doesn’t want that kind of attention, doesn’t need Zayn to glance back at him to wonder if he’s okay and if he’d really done what Hanna said he did.

“You want answers?”

Hanna tilts her head slightly, looking down at the ground below before nodding. “Yeah, why not?”

“You might not like it.”

“Only way I’ll ever know is if you tell me, so bring it.”

Zayn sucks in a deep breath, rubbing the end of the fag into the railing so that he can solely concentrate on the woman next to him who’s become a completely different person than who he thought she was towards the beginning.

“I’m going to say this first because I think it needs to be said, and I don’t care what you think about it either, but you have to know it’s the truth.” He looks over at her, watches as she purses her lip and tries to read her as best as he can given that he’s known her all of five minutes.

“Shoot.”

“Liam liked you, a lot. Probably loved you even but not in the way that you wanted.”

Hanna turns to meet his gaze, her cig hanging out of her mouth, looking rather unamused.

“Hanna, Liam broke up with you and didn’t give you an explanation because he was scared.”

She gives him an incredulous look, and Zayn gets that she doesn’t understand, doesn’t understand it yet until he decides to go for it. He doesn’t hold back and he doesn’t wait for her to add her own set of commentary either, no matter how much he wants to. This is about the truth and leaving her to deal with it on her own, as sad as that sounds. This isn’t Zayn’s issue; it never was. He’s only the messenger.

“Liam was gay, and he dated you because he thought that’s what people wanted from him; he thought that’s what he wanted for himself, but it obviously wasn’t.” Zayn pushes off the railing so he can shove his hands into his pockets, a clear sign that even though he feels confident to say this out loud, he’s still shying in on himself too.

Hanna makes no move or sound next. She freezes up, scrunches her brows, and Zayn gives her a moment.

“And you know this how? Were you with him? I mean, together?” She looks at him with narrow eyes, but they don’t look like they hold any kind of anger in them. Hanna’s hard to read, and Zayn doesn’t know whether he should prepare for resentment or tears.

He shakes his head rapidly though. “No; no we weren’t. I mean, not that I wouldn’t, per say," Zayn says but winces at the sound of his own words. "Just, no. Friends; only that because I didn’t know Liam when he was with you.”

The woman licks her lips then, pulls away from the railing to rub out the stub of her fag before she lets the bud drop to the ground.

“So you’re telling me my boyfriend,” she stops before continue to correct herself, “my ex was gay, and he couldn’t find it in himself to tell me this?” She laughs lightly, a small little tinkle of a noise but it’s more out of her doubting state than anything else. “After all we’d been through and he was scared to tell me that he was into men?”

Zayn can’t do anything but shrug in response because she’s working through it herself, and Zayn not only has to respect that, but he has to give her room to ask questions, anything she wants. But more importantly, he waits for forgiveness that might not even come. She might not even say those words, and Zayn knows more than anything that that’s the only thing Liam’s looking for, as selfish as it sounds. He really hadn’t meant to hurt her, and as Zayn looks over at Liam quickly before Hanna notices his attention is no longer on her, he sees Liam still in his same position but there’s a frown on his face and a hint of tears in his eyes.

What Zayn would give for them to work this out themselves instead of through a third party. It’d be easier and mean so much more than what Zayn’s willing to offer.

“Look, I know I’m a stranger, and with what I’m saying, you may not even believe, but I know it’s what Liam wanted. He felt remorse and so much regret because he _did_ care for you. But take it from me,” Zayn, at this moment, wishes he had another cig to suck on. The smoke had done him wonders for calming his nerves, but what he’s about to admit, he’s never really told anyone either, and it just might help put things into perspective. “Coming out isn’t easy, Hanna. It’s not because there’s a good majority of us that have to hide who we are from a world that hates us. It’s getting better,” Zayn admits, “It is. It’s a one day at a time kind of thing, because when you’ve got a secret that could alter people’s perceptions of you, you don’t know how to handle that because it could be the very sentence that ends your life. And I don’t mean by death, but I mean through family cutting you off or losing friends. Maybe Liam should’ve known better; maybe he should’ve trusted you like you did with him, obviously, but the unknown and the fear of it is what keeps half of humanity from doing anything at all.

“I’m not,” he sighs, pulling his hand out of his pocket to rub it over his face, “Shit, I’m not cut out for this, but a death wish is a death wish, and I promised I would do this. For him, for Liam. And all I ask… all _he_ would ask, and you know it deep down, is for you to be at peace with what happened. I can’t personally ask you to forgive him.” Zayn shifts on his feet, looks off in the distance towards the sun that’s slowly lowering itself in the sky. “That’s your choice. But I came here so you wouldn’t be bitter, so you wouldn’t have to hang on to something that you’d never know the truth about otherwise.”

It’s not so much tension that fills the air now, but it’s some other big ball of emotions rolled into one that Zayn certainly can’t pinpoint. It’s fine though because even if it were just one, he’d be scared of it, that Hanna or Liam or he himself wouldn’t take more from this than one set emotion. It’d be unforgiving because this is so layered, so complicated in its own right that Zayn figures it’s time to leave, to let Hanna have her time to sort through things on her own.

“I think it’s best if I head off now,” Zayn murmurs. He shuffles back until he’s at the front of the staircase. There's a rather large part of himself that tries to convince him to stay but he doesn’t know the young woman well enough to give her comfort, or both her and Liam’s relationship either to give any other advice. He’s spoken his mind and thought it went well enough, and now’s the time to bow out on a respectively high note. “I-well, I won’t see you around I guess, but I hope you take care,” he mentions just before his foot hits the first step.

She twists her head to look at him, sun setting in the sky and creating a golden hue against her skin. Her eyes sparkle and Zayn can’t be sure if she holds unshed tears or if it’s just because of the brightness. Hanna gives him a small smile though and a nod before Zayn finally moves forward. He doesn’t wait for Liam, and he doesn’t try to subtly tell him that he’s leaving iether. He expects Liam to stay behind for a few more moments unless he’ll rentaghost to the car.

The walk down the stairs seems much shorter than going up, but it isn’t until halfway down that he hears a shout.

“Zayn,” Hanna calls.

Zayn only looks up at her, sees her leaning over the railing with a sad smile on her face. “I would’ve forgiven him, you know. I loved him too much to be angry over his doltish decisions. Even if he was gay or bi or whatever it is he was, I probably would’ve freaked out but supported him nonetheless.”

Zayn can feel the strain of his neck as he continues to look upwards but it’s worth it because although it’s growing dark by the second, and he’s sure that Liam’s by him somewhere listening in, his face lights up instantly. “Take care, Hanna,” he says.

“I will,” she replies before she leans off the metal bars and disappears from his sight.

He feels better, so much so but when he finally looks back down to right his vision, he sees Liam leaned up against his car, and something in his chest falls considerably.  Hanna’s take on the situation is only one thing but Liam’s is another.

“You okay, mate?” he asks when he approaches the car. As far as he can tell no one is in sight and even then they’re shielded by an almost darkness so Zayn’s sure he won’t be called out on who he’s talking to.

Liam looks up at Zayn with an unreadable expression on his face while he studies the other lad, taking in Zayn's appearance and the way he approaches Liam all relaxed and cool like. “I didn’t expect that,” he answers honesty. “I didn’t know how it was going to go really. Can’t predict the future, but I-I think I figured it’d be much worse.”

Zayn shrugs his shoulders and twirls his keys on his pointer finger. “I have a way with words,” he jokes.

Liam snorts. “If I hadn’t of seen the way you calmed her down, I’d say you were lying.”

“So you agree with me then?” Zayn wiggles his eyebrows, thankful Liam’s okay for now. Joy suits the younger lad, and Zayn’s found that he hates it when Liam frowns. It’s not that it’s unbecoming, but Zayn believes Liam’s the type that does well when faced with complicated circumstances, that he chooses to push onwards rather than fall into the trap of despair. And of course, he’s had his moments of misery because of his unexpected death, but given that, he’s always gotten right back up.

This time isn’t different.

“Yeah, though I suppose it’s mostly because you’re a doctor?” Liam waits for Zayn to get to his side of the car before asking, but it makes the other lad pause, he notices. His facial expression changes too quickly for Liam to get a good read on it, but then Zayn’s nodding.

“I guess.” He unlocks the car and climbs inside, waiting for Liam to do the same before he can start the engine and head home. “We’re going to have to wait for any of your other ideas,” he comments randomly, but Liam only tells him that’s fine before he’s too curious to keep quiet.

“Why did you want to become a doctor?” He’s turned in his seat – no need for a seatbelt, Zayn had reminded him one afternoon – and staring at Zayn intently so he knows that Liam’s not going to give up his question until he answers.

Zayn sighs though because he’d rather not get on the subject, but if it’ll distract the both of them for the time being, he’ll do it. “It’s hard to say that it was something I wanted for myself, but the idea eventually grew on me,” Zayn admits. He thinks back to when he was in school, the long hours he’d put in and the late nights of studying. He shudders thinking about it, so very glad that it’s done and over with because if he’s honest, if he got the chance to do college all over again, he’s sure he would’ve picked a different route. It’s not to say he’s not appreciative for what he has chosen, but as of late he’s been questioning his decision for it. “What about you then?”

“Hadn’t decided actually.” Liam’s so matter of fact about it, but Zayn can’t say he relates. He’d always been set on something although he’d changed his mind a couple of times. “There was a brief time I thought I’d be a firefighter but then I ended up working in a bakery, and after that everything started slipping with my heath so I kept the job a lot longer than planned, but I enjoyed it. Maybe I would’ve done something with that. Not like it matters now, I suppose.”

Zayn nearly recoils as Liam sounds so casual about the fact that he won’t get to see where his adventures in working lead him though he’s been rather contingent about this entire experience anyway. Zayn’s not exactly sure what he’s expecting, but the fact that Liam’s grown used to being a ghost, at least that’s what he sees whenever he looks at Liam or if he’s talking, it intimidates him. Being an unearthly being can’t be all cracked up to be, and Zayn truly wonders if Liam will stay the way that he is.

It’s not exactly the first time he’s thought about it either, but he’s heard enough ghost stories in his lifetime to figure that something out of those must be true. Do ghosts just stay the way they are? Or do they turn bitter with… age? Maybe Liam will end up as a poltergeist or eventually he’ll just cease to exist for good.

The thought burns a hole in Zayn’s heart. They literally have no way of knowing the outcome of this, whether Liam’s idea of unfinished business is the right way to go in order for him to find his door to the other side or if he’ll remain here on earth for centuries until there’s literally nothing left of him. Either way, it doesn’t look good, and it has him all the more determined to prove that something _can_ be done.

“I’m sure you would’ve been great at whatever you chose to do,” Zayn admits, though he bites his tongue straight afterwards and hopes that Liam doesn’t try to return the sentiment.

Liam doesn’t but that doesn’t keep him from offering his thanks anyway. “Probably don’t have to say this by now, but thank you.”

By the time Zayn’s able to mutter his _you’re welcome_ , they’ve pulled up to Zayn’s house and just as he’s getting out of the car, Liam draws him back in with talking. Zayn leaves the car door open, letting the gentle night air fill the car and drape over his skin.

“I don’t feel like thank you is enough,” Liam admits. “That was more than I would’ve done for someone else, and I just…” Liam then blushes, the redness on his cheeks extending down to his neck, and Zayn can’t help but beam his pearly whites at the other lad although Liam doesn’t notice at first because his face is ducked down avoiding Zayn’s gaze.

“If it meant seeing you happy, then I’m glad I did it.” Zayn’s bottom lip finds its way in between his teeth as he evasively looks away from Liam. He can feel the heat of his own blush on his cheeks and the tip of his ears but he still grins despite not knowing what Liam might say to his more than obvious advances.

“Are you sure you’re not taken?”

“Who’s asking?”

“Believe it or not, a ghost.” Liam leans back in his seat with a teasing look in his brown eyes that are only illuminated by the lights inside the car.

And when Zayn gives him a dubious look, Liam laughs. “It’s true.”

“I’m beginning to believe someone’s a little crazier than I first thought. If I had known, I don’t think I would’ve made a move.”

Liam scoffs, throws his head back so it’s against the head rest. “Please,” he says, waving Zayn off, “If anyone’s crazy, it’s you, because if this is supposed to be some kind of date, I don’t think it’s a very good one.”

Zayn makes a move to protest, head tilting while looking slightly offended, but it’s all in good fun, especially as Liam continues.

“I mean, you take me to my ex girlfriend’s house, and then you wanna be all sweet with words and now you’re assuming that I’m going to go home with you. I see how it is.”

“Are you always like this?” Zayn asks, more than amused.

Liam lifts a hand and rests it against his chest. “What? Fun? Absolutely!”

“Well, that, but I meant good company.” Zayn's voice is quiet, but pleasant and more than fond of the way their easy banter slides off of their skin as playfulness.

“Depends on who’s asking,” Liam repeats Zayn’s words from just moments ago.

“Believe it or not, a human.”

They’re both alight with something bright and exciting, and maybe it’s wrong of them to try irradiating something so serious but it blocks it out for the time being, not erasing it completely from their minds, but more so to help them cope with it

“Would it be weird of me to say, especially since I can count on my hand how long we’ve known one another, that I feel like I’ve known you a lot longer than that?”

“No,” Zayn says, leaning back against his own leather seat. “I think there are certain people that you meet that are just… they not only make your life better but they just fit, like they were supposed to be there all along.”

“So I’m assuming you feel the same then?”

It takes him a lot longer to answer such a simple yes or no question but maybe it’s more complicated than that. “Yeah,” Zayn says. “Yeah I feel it too.”

And after Zayn’s confession, he realizes this is the moment he’d probably lean over and kiss Liam on the mouth, on those pretty pink lips that he tends to bite and lick at all on his own. But Zayn’s not forgotten what would happen if he did, how utterly sad this situation really is because there’s some undying need to touch Liam, more so than before, and he can’t do that. Liam wouldn’t be able to feel him, and he’d pass right through his nonexistent body, and that makes him ache deep down inside.

It also makes his good mood disappear but then Liam’s suddenly out of the car and by his side, urging him out so they can make it into the house.

“You don’t have work tomorrow, do you? We can wait for what’s next on my list. It’s uh, well it’s another difficult one I’d say, but I’ve put you through the ringer so if you want we can watch a movie, yeah? I mean, we don’t have to but…”

Zayn listens to him as he rambles on, going through a list of movies that Zayn keeps in the house, and continuing on with his little thoughts too. He makes sure Liam’s ahead of him as they walk so Liam won’t see his crestfallen face or the inner turmoil because Liam’s been amazingly great so far, and it only brings Zayn back to what could have been, what should have been, and he wonders, for the first time, how long they have together because as much as there's the idea that Liam may leave if he’s correct in his assumptions on righting his wrongs, they also have time working against their favor, well, Zayn’s favor.

If none of these work for Liam, and he decides to stay with Zayn, he’ll eventually watch him grow old and frail and Liam shouldn’t have to stick around for that. Of course, it’s a bit of a what if kind of scenario, but it’s enough of a possibility that has Zayn clenching his jaw, trying his best to mask the feelings he’d like to release.

“Liam,” he calls out. The other lad pauses mid-sentence to turn around and face Zayn.

“Yeah? Something wrong?”

“No,” Zayn shakes his head, “I was just going to say that whatever you want to do, we can.”

Liam looks at him with disapproval though. “That’s not fair, Zayn.”

But Zayn scuffs a shoe on the ground and adds, “Yeah, it is. Trust me, it is.”

Liam leaves it at that before they’re eventually inside, settling down on the couch to watch some random movie Liam’s picked out, where Zayn eventually falls asleep by his side and hopes that when he wakes up, it’ll all be a dream. A pleasant, bittersweet dream he’s glad he’s had, but wishes no more of.

Though when he wakes up, it isn’t.

x.x.x.x

Another week or so goes by before Liam even has the chance to talk to Zayn again. He’d been completely busy the entire time and whenever Liam would pop in to say hello, Zayn would be talking to someone or dealing with whatever new injury someone had acquired from recklessness.

To say the least, Liam was more than worried about the next piece on his list. He’d even tried to come up with more, but this was a big one, something that needed to be dealt with before it got too late in the game, and Zayn wouldn’t be able to help him any longer with it.

Although this time when he pops back into Zayn's office, Liam's not only hoping he's there, but when he settles into the room, he finds Zayn hunched over his desk, head in his hands.

“Zayn?”

Zayn lifts his head up, and Liam’s instantly on alert.

“What’s the matter?” He’s grown fond of Zayn, possibly too much for a ghost perhaps, but Liam can’t and wouldn’t take it back now. Zayn’s been wonderful company, the only company, but a presence in his life nonetheless, and Liam’s not quite sure how he’s going to be able to walk away from it if something does occur and he’s able to locate his door.

Zayn’s voice is gravely when he speaks, and Liam nearly shivers. “They want me to go into surgery again. The doctor on call can’t make it, and it’s either me or cancel someone else’s operation but this can’t wait.”

“Isn’t that your job though?” Liam asks, but immediately regrets it once he notices that Zayn’s hand tightens into a fist.

“I’m not ready.”

Liam raises an eyebrow. “But Zayn, this is your job, someone’s life, I suppose. I mean, I don’t know how serious this is actually but…”

Zayn shakes his head. “If you knew the truth, you’d understand.”

“Which, by the way, you still haven’t told me about yet.” Liam takes a seat before cocking his head to the side.

“And I won’t, not until your list is complete.”

Liam huffs. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you then. You either do it or you don’t. Those are your options. I may not understand what’s holding you back,” Liam leans forward to look at Zayn sternly, “but if you have a chance to help someone else, then that’s what you’re here for. Whatever is tripping you up, it’s in the past and it can be on the forefront of your mind at a different time.”

Zayn stares back just as intently as Liam, although there’s a rigidness to his posture.

“It’s your choice.”

And with that, Liam teleports out of the room leaving Zayn behind to ponder his decision, which of course, he chooses to go into surgery but he still has his qualms about it.

It’s not towards the beginning of the procedure, where the nurses are busy prepping the patient, laying out the instruments Zayn will need that the panic really sets in. It’s a new feeling that takes over his mind, and he’s left standing in the hallway wondering how he’s going to get through this. He tries his best to breathe in deep, to tell himself that just because he’d been responsible for Liam’s death, didn’t mean it’d happen again and so soon either.

He’s trained, a professional. It’s his job and Zayn knows that somewhere deep down that he can do this with skill and ease and precision. It’s what got him his position here at the hospital in the first place, and he can’t let some mental block stop him now.

During the middle of his emotional mess, that’s when Liam appears again. Zayn’s not quite sure if he sensed something off but then he’s by Zayn’s side, whispering to him and telling him that everything will be okay. He doesn’t ask questions and doesn’t hound Zayn like he’d done earlier, which makes him slightly better, but Liam’s words still ring in his ears because what he said was true. He needs to do this, not just for his sake but for the person that he’s going to be working on. It’s important because it’s his job, but it’s also essential because it feeds Zayn's heart (and maybe his ego a time or two) and mostly his being because it means that he’d been able to bring back a little good in the world, something that can’t be undone or taken away.

“Zayn,” Liam whispers.

He casually looks over at Liam as best as he can without looking too apprehensive. “Yeah?”

“You can do this.” Liam looks so earnest, so honest, and Zayn, for a moment, believes him. Believes that what he says is true and that he’ll be okay doing this because he’s done it before.

“Promise?” He scratches at his neck out of nervousness, and it’s a silly question to ask because how is Liam supposed to promise that he’ll be okay? But Liam does. He nods for Zayn and tells him he’ll be perfect before flashing him a grand ole smile.

It’s what helps Zayn finally walk into the operation room and do his job. And if he briefly notices that Liam ends up in the room with him while he’s busy cutting skin and stitching it back together, he only acknowledges it with a small upturn at the corner of his mouth, and hands that quit shaking from doubt.

x.x.x.x

“Okay look, I was fine with the Marcus thing, you know, because friends are distant and that’s easy to get away with. And I was hesitant with Hanna but eventually came around because I understood the decisions made behind the relationship, but this, _this_ has got to be-” Zayn more than huffs; he stands up from the couch and throws his hands up behind his head. “It’s not that it’s insane, but it’s completely out of the question, Liam.”

“And this is why I gave you some time before I told you what it was. Also, the fact that you’ve helped me out with those other things only proves that you can get through this one too.”

He’s more than persistent, and Zayn’s been able to hold him off for two days now but when he’d come home from work, he’d found Liam already here sitting on the couch and looking none too pleased.

“Liam, I don’t know how many times I’m going to tell you this before you’ll get it through your head, I _cannot_ do this.” It’s their first real argument too, and while Zayn had protested before, it’s nothing like this. This sends anxiety to every part of his body, short circuits his brain to the point where he doesn’t want to even think about what would happen if he were to follow through with it.

“It’s not ideal, okay. And it’s probably going to be weird if you show up to my parent’s house, but it’s also time sensitive, and I need you to do this for me. They can’t see me, Zayn. They can’t hear me. _Fuck_.” Liam sits forward on the couch, resting his elbows against his knees before running a hand through his hair.

Zayn turns around from staring out of the window in the living room to face Liam but he keeps his side pressed against the wall. “If you’ve been over there already, surely they’ve mentioned you. I don’t see what me going over there and talking to them is going to do.”

Liam closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose before he abruptly stands up to walk over near Zayn. He keeps his distance but closes in enough so that he’s no longer feeling as if he needs to raise his voice for Zayn to listen to him. “Yeah, I have been over there, and while they mention me, it’s mostly mum crying and dad comforting her. I can’t.... _shit_ , Zayn, I can’t get what I need if that’s happening.”

Zayn narrows his eyes, “And what _do_ you need from them? They just lost their son, and I doubt me going over there is going to help any.”

“Well, maybe it’ll help them feel better, for one. But I just, I need to know they’re going to be okay.”

“What happened to time will only tell?”

“Fuck you, Zayn, seriously. This could be one of the reasons I’m left behind. I just, I need to know. All they have left are my sisters and they haven’t been around because of my death. They’re on their own and I feel... I can’t really feel guilty, but I feel terrible, and my parents, they actually know you so you're the only choice I've got.”

Zayn doesn’t like this idea at all. It’s nothing about what Liam wants but more about the repercussions of him going to their house. They’re probably upset with him, angry at what he’d done, and even if they weren’t, showing up out of the blue wasn’t going to help anyone either.

“Liam,” Zayn says one more time, hoping his tone will finally get him to stop, but it doesn’t. It only angers Liam.

“Okay, fine. Let me just say this then, you’re avoiding something and this little act here only proves it. I don’t know what it is, but I know it’s got something to do with me. You’re not so secretive with your emotions, and I’ve pretended that I hadn’t seen some of the times I’d say something and your face had fallen because of it. But like I told you at the hospital, you can’t avoid shit forever.” Liam openly glares at Zayn now, pointing at him and standing tall. He’s far away enough not to come across as intimidating, but it still gets the better of Zayn because while it’s not any sort of insult, it’s definitely the truth in word form. It still makes his stomach churn with sickness and defeat. “If you don’t want to help me now, that’s fine. I won’t be a burden for you anymore, but as much as I’ve acted like I was cool with this entire thing, that I was okay, at least I voiced my concerns. You’ve kept whatever it is cooped up inside you, and now it’s coming to a head where you‘re not going to be able to avoid it any longer.”

When he’s done, Liam stands there for a second or two before he disappears within the blink of an eye, and Zayn’s left standing alone looking out of the window at the daylight that is providing him no comfort and no warmth.

He honestly has no right to act this way; after all, it is Liam who’s suffered the most, died while having to watch everyone around him go about their life without them noticing, but just as Liam had said too, it’s all coming to a head.

He reflects back to the day when he’d told Liam that they would try and find a source for his existence, when they would see if their actions would bring about a result in the form of Liam being able to be at peace and leave the world for good. But so far, nothing has worked and it looks like Zayn’s secret, the one he feels so strongly about, is going to be opened, completely exposed, and he has no clue as to how anyone - especially Liam - will react.

“Liam,” he says softly, crossing his arms over his chest and hugging himself tighter. “Liam, c’mere.”

He feels a shift in the air, the area around him going cold but he doesn’t see Liam, and he figures maybe it’s best. Maybe it’s best to not to look at him because Zayn now, with such a profoundness, understands that Liam’s going to be able to draw anything out of him if he plays his cards right. Of course right now he won’t, especially after what they’d been arguing about, but Zayn swears that if Liam asked him about what had happened, how his death was connected to Zayn and his failing hands, then he’d tell him, spill the beans and let them scatter only to wait and see if Liam would crush them with his own two feet.

“I’ll do it,” he complies. “But you have to promise me that whatever is said, whatever happens – and this is assuming that something will – you stay quiet, and you let me talk. You hear me out first before you say anything at all because I need that from you this time around.” He sniffs, uses the back of his hand to wipe at his cheek although it’s not wet with tears. “Can you promise me that?”

It’s a beat or two before he hears a reply, “Yeah, I promise,” before the room switches temperatures again, and Zayn's sure that Liam’s gone.

x.x.x.x

“Is it customary for doctors to do this?”

Zayn’s eyes widen, and he has to stop himself from cursing under his breath. “No, no ma’am, it’s not but uh, there are just a few things I’d like to discuss with you, if that’s okay?”

“Sure, sure. C’mon in. Can I get you something to drink, dear?”

Zayn shakes his head as he’s let inside the house. He tries his best not to pay too much attention to anything inside, especially the pictures that nearly take up every inch of the house. They’re all family photos from what Zayn can see, and it’s like they’re all burning holes into his body. He also feels the chill of Liam by his side, and knows that he’s there without actually seeing him.

“They wanted to make sure we had memories for our kids,” Liam murmurs behind him. “Dad was very adamant about it too. He’d get angry with me and threaten us with groundings if my sisters and I didn’t pose for the camera.”

Zayn hears the smile in his voice and that eases him slightly. He can’t answer back though because Mrs. Payne leads him into the living room, offering him a seat before she takes her own.

“My husband’s in the kitchen. He can hear you just fine if you talk loud enough,” she comments and nods at him. It’s his cue to begin but honestly, he doesn’t know where to start just yet.

“This is kind of unexpected, I’m sure.”

“Well, of course, but I can’t say it’s unwelcome.” The older woman smiles at him, and Zayn swears that she’s aged several years from the last time he’d seen her. It also looks as if there’s a permanent redness to her eyes.

“As you know we shared a common interest. Liam.”

At the sound of his name, Mrs. Payne nearly slouches in her seat but quickly rights herself to appear as if she’s okay.

“I’m sorry to bring him up, especially because it’s been so soon, but I- there’s been some things that have been on my mind.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Payne says. She looks slightly alarmed but doesn’t push any further. “Go right ahead.”

Zayn bows his head, before he pushes down the feeling that tells him he needs to get out of here, that he needs to run. “Liam was…” He pauses, and Mrs. Payne tells him to take his time. He can hear her husband in the kitchen, but he has no clue if he’ll eventually join them or not. “I haven’t been practicing that long, as a doctor I mean. I’m still considered new, especially in terms of my age and the fact that most docs end up working for years on end before retiring. It’s a steady job, and easy to fall into the trap of overworking oneself, but I bring this up because Liam was my first death.” He pauses to look up at the other woman. Zayn expects her to be horrified, shocked, something other than open, eyes slightly wide and hanging on to his every word. “They say it gets easier the more it happens, which is quite an odd expression to say given that that’s the last thing you want as a doctor, as someone who’s supposed to cure someone. But they train us for this, to deal with it and handle it accordingly but as expected I didn’t take it well.”

Zayn feels shaky, like his whole body is on adrenaline although he’s able to sit still. His hands are shaking lightly though, so he ends up clasping them together in front of himself so he can keep them from moving so much, make it look like he’s getting through this okay.

“They gave me some time off, which is why I was at the funeral in the first place, but I thought…” He bites harshly at his lip, looks away from the woman in front of him but instead of that helping him regain his focus, his eyes come in contact with a picture of the entire family. Zayn can't tell where they are, vacation most likely, but they're all smiles and sun-kissed skin. “I just- I wanted to know how you were doing.”

He might come undone, unravel at the seams because he’s over thinking everything, and it’s hard to focus. Zayn’s taken to wringing his hands together but that doesn’t seem to do the trick until he feels a shift next to him where he looks over at Liam sharply.

Liam stares right back at him. His brown eyes are kind and questioning, and he looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, remembering the promise he’d given Zayn.

“I don’t have anything to say to you to help you feel better because I don’t even know what to do to help myself, help me feel better about what I’ve done. And while this started out as a friendly visit for me, just to make sure you were taking it easy, see if I could do anything for you, this is going to be selfish of me to ask, but I just-I hope you can forgive me.” Hearing his voice crack is something that shuts Zayn up immediately. He looks at the carpet, jaw clenching because he can already feel the stares on his body. They might be judgmental; they might but of pure anger; he doesn’t really know because he can’t allow himself to look up. It’s a selfish thing to ask for this but at this point, this is a surefire way to let Liam know what’s going on while also figuring out where he stands with this family. If the funeral hadn’t given him the peace he was looking for then, then maybe this will.

“Zayn, honey, what are you talking about?” Mrs. Payne’s voice is too kind for Zayn to bear, too gently, and when he briefly glances up, he finds that both husband and wife are in the room. He’s standing beside her chair, holding out a cup of tea, and she looks on at him with blatant concern.

“I uh, I killed him,” he says finally. And that’s what changes things, the words that unleash the next course of events because while Zayn doesn’t go further than that to explain himself, it’s easy enough to understand what he’s no longer implying, but practically saying.

“What are you talking about? They said he lost a lot of blood, that it was an accident.” It’s Mr. Payne speaking this time, voice direct and confused but not upset.

And Zayn nods. “Yeah, it was that too but I-I couldn’t, I _should’ve_ been able to do something. He was just,” he swallows around his words, taps his foot against the carpet and feels Liam shifting near his side, trying to get his attention but he won’t look, can’t look at him after this.

“Zayn,” Mrs. Payne says, her voice sharp. She ends up having to repeat herself again before Zayn can finally finds it in him to look her in the eye. “Is this what you think? Is this what you’ve believed this entire time?” Her hand grips the armrest of the chair she sits in, and she looks startled. “I don’t know what to say to you right now,” she admits, “but _that_ is not the truth.”

Zayn shrinks back in his seat with the way she forces her words out, so loud and unforgiving just to make sure he knows it’s the truth. But he also grimaces, and does nothing more than scoff. “Come off it, I’d been in the room. I was the one responsible for your son, to make him better, and I _failed_. So with all due respect, I think I do have something to do with it.” He doesn’t even know why he’s defending himself on this. Mrs. Payne had practically given her blessing on forgiveness by admitting it wasn’t his fault, but there’s that troubled part of Zayn, the flashbacks and the all too real memory that cross before is eyes every so often, reliving themselves second by second that remind him exactly how slow, how late he’d been to do anything to save Liam.

There’s a creak and shuffling before the couch dips in. After that, Zayn feels a hand on his shoulder and a warm voice fill his ear. “Son,” she says, a tight smile working its way on her face. It’s obviously difficult for her to discuss this after it happened so soon, but she goes on anyway with determination that Zayn’s not quite sure he’s ever seen before, except when he looks closer, he recognizes only one other person he’s found it in: Liam. Liam's mother’s eyes are a nice soft shade of brown, face framed by dirty blonde hair, and she reminds him of the younger lad, the guy he’s grown fond of so much.

“Don’t you dare start with that,” she begins, accent thick on her tongue. “I won’t have it, and none of this makes me or my husband think any different of you.” She nods her head over in his direction.

He’s been quiet this entire time but Zayn wonders if he really agrees with his wife.

“I’ll admit, I was upset – still am, if I’m honest – as any mother would be, because he was my baby, my son, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned about this life, it’s that everything happens for a reason.”

Zayn figures this would be the time to insert an eye roll, but she’s still firm in her grip on his shoulder and a presence he didn’t think she’d be.

“And you may not believe me, Zayn. I know that look on your face right now, but you’ve got a whole life ahead of you, and you’ll come to see that life and death and everything in between is intertwined in a way that us mere humans can’t seem to understand.” She removes her hand then to place it in her lap, and it looks as if she’s trying to gain some sort of mental strength considering the subject, like she’s trying to convince herself of her own words. “Now, I don’t know what you believe and that’s not what I’m trying to get at here because regardless we’re still connected, still apart of one another whether we think alike or not.” Mrs. Payne looks distant now, eyes nearly glassy. She shifts in her seat though, reaches out for Zayn’s wrist to grip it in her hand carefully, squeezing just enough to gain his attention so that Zayn is looking at her directly. “And whatever your mind is telling you, you ignore that. I’m sorry it had to be Liam, and I’m sorry because you lost a patient, and I’m sorry I lost my child, but what I am sorry for and what I won’t allow is you feeling guilty for things out of your control. Who knows why things happen the way they do, but you’re not leaving here until I’m certain you understand that we don’t hate you and that it’s _not your fault_.”

When Zayn nods, she grins back at him. “Now, how about you stay for dinner and then I’ll let you be on your way?”

She doesn’t wait for any kind of comment on Zayn’s part before she’s up and in the kitchen. Mr. Payne is left behind who only shrugs at Zayn before taking a seat. He doesn’t say anything aside from asking Zayn if he’d like to occupy himself with the tv and let him know quickly that everything his wife said was true.

So he stays in this warm house, with good food and two people who swap stories about Liam, and Zayn sits there feeling a bit lost but include nonetheless. He feels Liam’s presence by his side the entire time but Zayn doesn’t look at him if he can help it because he knows that Liam’s itching to pull him aside and talk to him.

The rest of the night goes well, especially since he doesn’t have to worry about eating dinner. Mrs. Payne hugs him goodbye and Mr. Payne gives him a nod before he’s on his way home. They’d told him to keep in touch, but Zayn’s not sure if he’d be able to do that. Maybe, occasionally. But as of now, the only thing running through his mind is the fact that whenever he slowly walks out of the house and down to his car, Liam’s parents eventually shut the front door and Liam’s left standing outside. Zayn can’t help but believe that it’s got to be a huge metaphor for something, or maybe it’s just a visual of one story ending and another one beginning.

He waits in the car for Liam, doesn’t bother him until Liam’s sitting in the passenger seat so Zayn can leave. It’s tense, and Zayn knows that they’re both dying to say something, but they keep their mouth shut until Zayn pulls out of the driveway.

“Zayn,” Liam starts, but he cuts him off.

“Don’t; please don’t say anything.”

So Liam doesn’t, not until they pull up to Zayn’s house where Zayn makes a beeline for the door but he knows that Liam would be able to find him anywhere regardless of how fast he moves. He’s a ghost who can definitely walk through walls and the inevitable is coming.

As soon as Zayn is inside, he heads straight for the kitchen for the alcohol hoping that might mellow him out, but Liam beats him too it by suddenly appearing before him, arms cross and a look that’s very much clear to Zayn.

“I’ve got so much to say to you right now but I don’t even know where to begin,” he admits. His tone is eerily calm. And Zayn can't do anything but stand there like a reprimanded child. He owes Liam this, this talk between friends and what could’ve been more. “I remember now. Something you said sparked it, and I remember being in that room. “

Zayn frowns but he doesn’t move because he knows that Liam’s not going to let him go, that he has to see this through. And as Liam continues on, acknowledging the events that ultimately lead him here, Zayn recalls them too, stitches the events that he saw with his own two eyes with Liam’s point of view. Because as Liam keeps on going, drilling those memories into Zayn, he feels like he can practically see what it would’ve been like to have been Liam, staring up dazed and confused and probably in so much pain.

“And you were there,” he says. “So I let go, but I was okay with that because it hurt too much.”

“Liam,” Zayn says, finally cracking his own silence. “I didn’t-I don’t, i-it wasn’t supposed to be like this, _like that_. It happened so fast.” He can feel himself slipping, much more than before because not only does Liam know the truth, but he has the prerogative to do what he please in terms of approaching Zayn. He holds a lot more power in his hand, and more than anything, Zayn’s not sure if his heart can take it.

“You’re a stupid, _stupid_ bastard.”

Liam advances on him suddenly, and Zayn’s not prepared for it. He’s practically glowing red with anger, and Zayn shuffles back as quickly as he can but he knows he doesn’t have much room to do so. And he’s proven right whenever the back of his leg hits the coffee table, where he’s completely unprepared for it. He trips, managing to move away from the table quickly enough to land on the floor rather than the glass of the table. Pain curls its way around his body regardless, and while he lays on the floor, the only thing he can do is stare up at Liam.

When the initial shock is over, he sits up and further moves back, scrambling on all fours until his back hits the edge of the couch.

“I’m sorry, Liam. _I’m sorry_ ,” he cries. “I didn’t-it just-” Zayn chokes on a sob, and when he can’t back up anymore, he sits there nearly curled into a ball as Liam stands over him. He’s angry but his eyes are red while his cheeks are blotchy to match.

“That’s what this entire thing was about, wasn’t it?” he accuses, tone harsh. “Putting off telling me what happened. I thought… I thought you _trusted_ me.” He scrambles for words but he can’t find them fast enough.

“I do,” Zayn says. “I do; I promise, but that wasn’t what this was about, Liam. I, I _killed_ you. You were right there. You were awake, and you held my hand; you reached out for me as if, as if I was your last hope,” he cries out again, lips wavering. It’s getting harder and harder to keep his breathe steady but his emotions are all out of whack and it makes sense. “I just, I don’t know. I don’t know what happened. I’m sorry, Liam. I’m sorry. And then you were here. You just, you showed up in my house the same day I went to your fucking funeral, and I thought I was _seeing_ things.” He covers his mouth for a moment to wipe away at the tears that have trailed down his face. Zayn can’t really see Liam anymore but he supposes that doesn’t matter because all of this is coming out, and he’s not sure he can handle Liam’s expression, or Liam's feelings on what he’s saying. “But then you’ve been here, and I felt like I owed you something, to make up for what I did, and I didn’t want to go today because of that, because I knew the illusion would be ruined.”

Zayn’s got nothing left to give. Absolutely nothing, and by now he’s so upset that he’s having to concentrate on breathing. It’s not until he feels a the cold shift against his cheek that he focuses his vision on Liam who’s now crouched down in front of Zayn with such a broken look on his face.

“What my mum said was right, Zayn. Things happen, and it’s not your fault. It’s _not_. You have to believe that. I’m mad at you for lying to me, for not telling me, not for, for killing me because,” he laughs, a watery smile taking over his face, “because you’re too kind for that kind of evil, Zayn. You became a doctor for a reason, and that was to save people, to make them better and just because you fail someone every once in awhile, it still counts that you tried.”

Liam sits down on the floor in front of Zayn, hand still reached out near Zayn’s cheek. He can’t feel anything, but he knows that at least Zayn can feel the cold, feel something between the two of them.

“If I were human right now, I’d lean and kiss you,” he says. It’s the first kind of upfront admission that Zayn’s heard from himself or from Liam. Of course he guessed it, that they felt something awhile back, but now it’s concrete. “I’d rest my head against your forehead,” Liam leans forward, takes both of his hands and cups them around Zayn’s cheeks. “And I’d look directly at you and reassure you because you deserve that much. You deserve to know that it’s out of your hands now, and you, well, you need to be at peace with me being like this, with me being gone.”

But Zayn shakes his head before reaching up to try and touch Liam’s own cheek but it doesn’t work, and he sighs. “What happens now? Nothing’s worked, has it?”

It’s a subject changer, but he doesn’t regret it because he can’t handle anymore, not when Liam’s here with him making him feel like this, so open and fragile.

“I don’t know, Zayn. I don’t know but you gotta promise me you’re going to deal with this, yeah? I love you too much for you to keep beating yourself up about it.”

Zayn’s eyes widen at the admission but Liam doesn’t seem phased, rather pleased with himself at the fact that he’d been able to catch Zayn off guard by mere words of absolute truth. Liam means them now, and he's sure he'll mean them later too.

“Don’t,” Liam shakes his head, watching the way that Zayn's words are about to escape his mouth before they die down. “Don’t think about anything else and forget the impossibilities.”

Zayn chuckles despite is tear soaked face but sits forward which causes Liam to withdraw his hands and sit back on his haunches. “Is this feasible, you know, to be in love with a ghost?”

Liam, through his own watery eyes and red-tinted skin, gives an absolutely breathtaking smile that has Zayn studying him for the first time. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” He then stands up from his position, motioning for Zayn to do the same thing and before either of them can speak again, Zayn lets out a noise while looking behind Liam’s shoulder.

His face falls instantly, features smoothing out, and Liam looks on with growing worry.

“What is it?” He turns around to see what Zayn’s staring at, and as he does, his stomach sinks.

In the middle of the living room there’s a maroon colored door with a bronzed door-knob. It sits alone in the house with no other support around it aside from a white light shining from underneath its crack.

“Is that…” Zayn begins.

“Yeah, I think so. It feels like it at least.” Liam’s the first one to move, inching towards the door. He doesn’t try and open it because he knows, or at least he thinks he knows what might happen if he were to do so. Instead he lifts his hand up to the grain and presses it again the wood.

His hand doesn’t go through it.

“Zayn,” he says. “I can feel it.” He turns around, eyes slightly wide and uncertain.

At that point, Zayn walks forward too, tries to test out the door itself to see if it’ll open but it won’t for him. It seems as if it’s locked and as soon as Liam shifts his own hand down to the doorknob, flicking his wrist in order to twist it open, the door becomes ajar. More light seeps out from behind it and both lads are in awe.

“I didn’t think it actually existed,” Liam admits. “I mean, I saw it before. I saw people at the hospital go through it but I didn’t think it’d happen for me.”

“So, what are you going to do?”

Which is a game changer and a big question. Since Liam’s door is here, and now they’ve gotten to a point where they’ve admitted they care for one another, where does that leave them?

It seems as if all the tense emotions of before have now swept away given this new detail in their life, but really it's only more prominent because this is the moment they had been searching for.

“Shit, Liam. What happens?” He runs a hand through his air while Liam withdraws from the door, shutting it completely before stepping back. Once he does, the entire door shakes for a brief moment before it goes still and Liam figures that’s strike one against him since he’d opened it without going through.

“I don’t know. What do I do?” He looks genuinely confused, conflicted even because this is the moment he’d been hoping for, that they’d finally solve his issue of being a ghost. But even now that he has his answers, he’d hadn’t been given any about what happens after he passes through the door, _if_ he decides to go through the door, that is.

“I’m not going,” he says suddenly, shaking his head.

“What?” Zayn nearly shouts. “Why not?”

And Liam gives him the most painful look he’s ever seen. It’s torn with a decision he’s got to make for himself, but for Zayn, the answer seems so obvious.

“This is what I thought I wanted, Zayn. I didn’t know much those few weeks ago when I’d asked for your help but now I know a lot more than I did, and I’m not just talking about my death. I mean, something feels _right_ here. Like, this is my place or something, with you. I’ve felt it for awhile, and call me crazy because we haven’t known one another long, but I feel like that what was supposed to happen.”

“What are you talking about? What do you mean?” Zayn’s still standing near the door, hasn’t backed away from it like Liam has.

“You, Zayn. I’ve found you, and I feel like we met for a reason.” Liam steps closer to Zayn, cautious of the door as if it’d leap out and bite him.

“Okay but that doesn’t mean you get to stay here-”

“But Zayn-”

“No,” he says firmly. So far he’s been a crying mess of a human but this, no, this is different. This is Liam, and his almost life and the weight of the situation is finally settling in. There’s a fucking door in the middle of his house that is waiting for Liam, to bring him to what he had wanted from the very beginning, what the both of them had been searching for these past few weeks.

So with determination and a new resolution, Zayn finally realizes what this means, what can and cannot happen, and he knows the kind of person that Liam will be in the next few moments, and he’ll be damned if he lets it happen. “You’re not staying. No matter what we feel, no matter how much we might miss one another, you’re not doing it, and I won’t let you stay.”

“Don’t you want _us_?”

Zayn squeezes his eyes shut for a brief moment, closing himself off because he realizes exactly what’s happened. It’s not like they purposely got close to one another because honestly, Zayn tried to keep some semblance of distance between the two regardless of how Liam sank beneath his skin so easily, but even if they’ve admitted their feelings, this isn’t the place for Liam, and Zayn’s not selfish enough to make him stay behind.

“What good would it be if you stayed, Liam?” Zayn finally expresses, opening his eyes. “This isn’t about feelings as much as it is about the reality of it.”

“So you’re saying you want me to leave you behind as if none of this mattered?”

“Goddamn it, every second… _every second_ mattered, Liam. But just think about the future. You said it yourself that you didn’t think you could handle it. Not being able to feel, that’s going to take a toll on you, and I’m not going to live in guiltiness as I’ve been doing. But more importantly, I can’t have you hating me in a year’s time when you realize that all we’ll ever have is good conversation.”

Liam doesn’t want to admit it, but he knows Zayn’s right. And it’s not like he couldn’t last without the sex because that, well, that’s a whole other issue on its own, but Liam had definitely expressed the bitterness he’d felt being in his form, of not being able to touch. And what kind of torture would it be to stay with the one thing he has possibly grown to love the most with no sort of contact whatsoever?

Liam’s shoulders slump. “But at least we’d have each other.”

Zayn snorts but it’s not out of spite or absurdity. “And that’s exactly why you need to go.”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen if I go,” LIam says dismally.

The door rattles again, and it startles both lads but it’s only a reminder that there’s not much time life.

“Liam, I don’t know either, to be honest, but you’re too good for anything bad so please.”

The light from underneath the door only seems to get brighter, and in that moment, Liam grasps the handle. It’s pointless to argue with Zayn, no matter how much he’d like to stick around now, but he also knows the truth in his words and that given the fact that Zayn had helped him all throughout this miserable process of discovering things about themselves, it only proves that Zayn had his best intentions all along.

Liam twists the door handle, pulling it open so that all he can see is white. There’s no other scene before him than that, and he figures the color must be a good indication that it’ll all work out. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t have reservations about going through because he halts as he edges closer to the lining between hardwood and light, and just before it takes him, Liam can’t help but turn around quickly.

Zayn stares at him because it seems like it’s ending too quickly. He feels like there should be some long drawn out goodbye or some random mess of things that are supposed to happen before Liam finally takes the plunge, but instead of anything like that, Liam gives him one last look, holds his gaze in place and smiles.

“You remember what I said?”

The light encases the outskirts of Liam’s body so it makes it slightly difficult to see all of his features, but everything Zayn wants and everything he needs to see one last time is slightly enhanced. The way Liam’s eyes sparke, his cheeks still nearly pink from his frustration from earlier, Zayn locks that into his memory. His hospital gown is long and hangs just below his knees, and if this were the right moment, Zayn would probably laugh like he hadn’t gotten the chance to earlier because now that this will become a monumental moment in his life, something he’ll look back on for the rest of it until it’s his turn to go, everything seems more interesting, more startling and breathtaking all at once.

Like a sight he’ll never see again.

“Yeah,” he nods. “It’s not my fault.”

“And you better damn well remember that.” Liam gets choked up before he can say anything else but he lightly laughs it off. “I’m gonna miss you, you know.”

Zayn bows his head and nods. “Yeah.” It’s all he’s able to say before he loses it completely. “This is not how I imagined it would be.”

“Me either.”

The door, although opened, rattles again and an echo of sorts releases from inside. Liam briefly looks back over his shoulder, towards the light. “I have to go now.”

And they both can’t help but think that this is like one of those moments in movies or in tv shows, where everyone’s saddened and corny but Liam forgoes all of that because this isn’t like that; there is no guarantee that he’ll make it through the door to whatever is or isn't on the other side.

The only fact he has is that Zayn will be here, left alone where he’ll most likely struggle to handle Liam’s absence until he eventually moves on, gaining a new life without Liam in it, grow old and worn with nothing but memories left.

“I love you, and I mean it, Zayn.”

Zayn tries to be brave, tries to hold his head up so he looks decently put together for Liam and his familiar face. And when he goes to opens his mouth, he can feel his voice crack. “I love yo-” he begins, but never gets to finish because while he sounds off, like his voice isn’t his own, Liam’s rapidly pulled back, light consuming his entire body before the door slowly swings shut, and Zayn’s left standing there staring at red wood. He looks more than shocked, the last of his words dying in his throat.

The door, the very one that had just swallowed Liam whole rattles one last time, and Zayn takes a step back before the wood begins cracking down the middle. Little pieces fall off the frame of the door, crumbling into pieces before his very eyes. And Zayn has no time to think or to mourn or to do anything as he watches the door disassemble itself into little fragments. Once his living room floor is completely covered in wood, a door no longer existing, those little chunks begin to dissolve.

Zayn watches on as they completely disappear into thin air, and he’s left in an empty house that seems too big, too quiet. He listens, stands still in his position too and waits for something to happen. But it’s as if the events of the past few weeks didn’t exist. There’s literally nothing left of his time with Liam because he hadn’t been a physical being and the door to another world no longer exists.

He doesn’t know what to do with himself but look around at all of his useless belongings, at everything that’s in his view with a new sense of dullness.

“Liam?” Zayn calls out because maybe what happened didn’t, in fact, actually happen. But when he calls out again, Liam doesn’t appear. He doesn’t pop his head out from the other room, and he doesn’t show himself before Zayn without any warning to scare him.

There’s no trace of him, no sign of what had been, and Zayn can’t help but think that the both of them had made the worst decision of their lives. But even then, it wasn’t his choice although he’d demanded Liam to go because he knew deep down what the other lad wanted for himself, and it wasn’t to stay here.

Zayn moves over to the couch and sits down. He spends who knows how long staring into space until he can’t hold himself up anymore from tiredness, where he decides to lay down on the couch where sleep eventually takes over him.

x.x.x.x

It takes a good week before Zayn even remotely smiles. The edginess he’d been on a few rare occasions seems to have taken a permanent residence in his mood because he notices the way that some of the nurses eye him warily.

He’s also avoided phone calls, quit going out and opts for the comfort of his home if he’s not at work because everything reminds him of Liam. Memories can be a painful thing, and they pop out of nowhere when Zayn least expects it. It’s like the things he owns or the things he does has been tainted in some way, and often times he finds himself almost calling out for the other lad just to hear his voice, just to see what he would have to say about some stupid television show Zayn had managed to find on tv.

While Zayn knew he hadn’t had much quality of life before he’d met Liam, because he was a doctor after all and that had eaten up most of his time, he practically hides himself away now in desperation.

Zayn also can’t admit that he seems to have taken to the alcohol a bit more than necessary. He gets drunk more, but stays at home for it, of course. Does his job with ease and without much interaction with those he works with. And most importantly, he ignores the call from Liam’s parents the one time they tried to contact him.

Zayn’s not quite sure how long his misery goes on for. Before he knows it weeks have passed and then a few months, and nothing seems right to him. It’s not like he can talk to anyone about what’s eating him up day in and day out, and he’d thought he’d have the mental strength to deal with it on his own, but by the looks of things and the way that he’s slacking, says so much more.

Thing is, a day finally comes when he ends up paying for his mistakes when he’s in surgery again, this time on a young woman. It’s like the first time around with Liam, things happen too quickly, she’s losing too much blood and all Zayn does is freeze up.

His breathing goes ragged, and there’s like a million and one voices in his head screaming at him to do something before he ends up with another death on his hands. There’s also the fact that if this keeps happening to him, surely he’ll gain a reputation for patients dying, which is something no doctor wants on their list of credits.

Eventually, he snaps out of it, like a force of nature overwhelms him to the point where everything is clear. He doesn’t know where it’s come from, but everything suddenly makes sense, and he can understand the nurses that are rushing around him. Before he knows it, he’s calling the shots, directing people and assigning them different tasks in order to keep his patient alive.

“Just stay with me,” he whispers as his fingers work nimbly to fix the problem.

It takes no more than an hour before he’s out of surgery, full of relief and another successful operation on his hands and under his belt. Zayn goes to clean up, taking off his surgical mask and removing the gloves off his hands so he can scrub them clean, get the lingering feeling off of him. He also gives himself a couple of minutes to calm down before he needs to go and talk to the family, inform them that everything will be alright and that they’ve got nothing to worry about, and it’s when Zayn’s on his way to the waiting rooms, passing by various hospital rooms full of people, that he thinks he sees someone familiar.

Zayn pauses, gives a look into the room where a family is sitting around an older gentlemen, talking with him. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, but it gives Zayn a strange feeling. He doesn’t stand there long though, not wanting someone to notice him and possibly ask him what he’s doing or thinking he’s a doctor come to give them news. So he continues on and when he passes the first waiting room, he notices that there’s only one person in there but he pays them no mind because the family he needs to speak to is on the other side of the room shielded by a glass barrier for extra privacy.

But a voice makes him pause before he can make it to his intended destination. It has him wondering if it’s directed at him or if it’s just a voice carried from down the hallway. Zayn turns on his heel, and when he finds no one behind him, he makes to set off again but then that very voice continues on.

And it sounds too familiar.

“Well, I couldn’t let that happen again now could I?”

Whoever is speaking pauses for a brief moment.

“Over here, darling.”

Zayn frowns and when he turns his head, he’s met by the lone stranger in the waiting room, their head slightly ducked, hidden behind a magazine.

“Excuse me?” He’s got not time for this, not really. A family is waiting for news, and he’s the one to deliver it.

But he’s met with a snort and a bit of a laugh before the magazine drops to the wayside and a face is revealed. “Call me jealous, but you are not meeting another ghost. I mean, she may not have been a he, but I would imagine she’d end up sweeping you off your feet anyway, especially if the first go around is any indication on your preferences ie. falling in love with a ghost.”

The color drains from Zayn’s face immediately and at first he thinks this is a joke, that maybe someone had found out about Liam and is playing a horrible prank, but as he studies the other man further, he realizes there’s more to this than meets the eye. Especially when Zayn begins to notice the giant angel wings protruding from behind Liam.

He’s more than dumbfounded.

The patient’s family has all been forgotten by now in favor of staring. Zayn doesn’t care if anyone happens upon him either and asks him what he’s doing because this cannot be possible.

Yet maybe it is because if Liam had been a ghost, that’d been a good indication that the odds can most certainly be defied, but just… how?

“ _Liam?_ ”

The other lad stands from his seat, spreads his hands out and says with a happy grin, “The one and only!”

Zayn then blinks his eyes shut, closing them so tightly in hopes that by doing that, it might wash away the vision before him,. As soon as he opens his eyes, Liam’s still there, giant wings and all.

His attire is completely different too, Zayn notices. It’s no longer a hospital gown or everyday clothing, but it’s not a toga either as depicted in most paintings of things with wings.

Zayn doesn’t even know what Liam is, although maybe it should be fairly obvious.

Instead Liam has on nothing but normal attire. Plain, dark jeans with a fitted t-shirt that looks more than a little good on him, if Zayn says so himself.

“Is this some kind of trick because this isn’t funny,” he proceeds to say after his examination.

Liam’s eyes widen before he rapidly shakes his head. “Oh god, this again, only we’re in public and not in your bedroom.”

“What the fuck is going on, Liam?” Zayn doesn’t want to admit that he might be about to snap, busting into hysterics if given the chance and if he wasn’t in so much disbelief.

“Well, I’ve got some explaining to do, I suppose, but this is like really proper supernatural isn’t it. It’s awesome, right?”

“Liam,” Zayn’s still speechless, still mesmerized by what he’s seeing. “Be serious here, what’s going on?”

Liam finally really gives his attention to Zayn and the seriousness he exudes. His smile drops down to a sweet little grin when he figures his happiness of the situation isn’t being shared. “I’m an angel now, Zayn. Like a real one.” He turns around slightly so his back is in view for Zayn to see. “See? I’ve got wings.” Liam beams.

But Zayn doesn’t seem to be responding well to what Liam’s on about.

“C’mon Zayn, it can’t be that hard to figure out. You met a ghost for crying out loud!”

“That’s not… I’m not,” he struggles for words because the only thing running through his mind is that Liam is here in his hospital.

Liam is standing right in front of him.

Liam is not only an angel, but he’s _right there_.

Somehow between their little exchange they’ve gotten closer to one another. Zayn swears he doesn’t know how it happened, but Liam’s not only in his vision, but he’s in front of Zayn, about an arm’s length away.

Zayn reaches forward suddenly, which only startles Liam until his features relax, understanding what Zayn’s going for. His arm extends, fingers stretching out before he pauses just before he gets to Liam’s skin.

“Can I?” he asks, and all Liam does is nod before the pads of Zayn’s fingers are against his cheek and the line of his jaw.

“You’re real,” he breathes.

Liam laughs coolly. “Yes, I’m real.”

“No but you’re _real_. Like, I feel you.”

“I’m an angel now, Zayn. Of course I’m real.” He tilts his head to the side slightly but it’s more than enough for it to look like he’s leaning into Zayn’s touch. “Your fingers are warm.”

“How long are you here for?” Zayn whispers.

At the question, Liam perks up while Zayn’s hand finally drops away from his face. “I hope you’ll be as happy as I was when I found out,” he admits. He’s practically glowing, a sort of bright sensation overwhelming his being. It reminds Zayn of when Liam had left, when the door had taken him back. “Zayn, I’m not _just_ an angel. I’m a guardian angel, which means I get to stay here.”

“Here?” Zayn repeats, looking up at Liam in awe.

“On earth. I get to stay here because the hospital is under my charge now.”

It makes sense to Zayn, but then again it doesn’t because how is it that one person gets to have this, gets to experience this much? From childhood Zayn had been convinced that shit like this doesn’t happen, that good things don’t happen for everyone.

And maybe this isn’t a completely good thing. There was death and other unworldly things involved, but Zayn thinks that’s okay, as long as Liam’s okay with it. And by taking in his expression and his hopeful reaction for Zayn to have the same one, he can’t deny himself the fact that he’s accepted everything, that he’s okay with it all too.

“So I get to see you everyday then?”

Liam nods but he holds up a hand to keep Zayn from asking anything else. “No more questions now. I’ve interrupted something you’ve needed to go do for the past ten minutes. Go to your office when you can, and I’ll make sure it all makes sense.”

“Shit,” Zayn whispers under his breath. “Okay, yeah. I-I’ll be there in a bit.” He backs away from Liam to look down the hall but doesn’t take more than a second to look back because he’s scared Liam might disappear. “Promise?”

Liam’s eyebrow quirks up in question, wings expanding just slightly at the raised interest.

“Promise you’ll be there?”

Instead of answering, Liam closes the distance between him and Zayn again, pulls him close to him before leaning down to capture his lips.

There’s more than a spark there; it’s more of a ripple effect, if Zayn’s honest, because it makes him shiver and freeze on the spot until he realizes exactly what it is he’s feeling.

It’s Liam, but it’s so much more than that. He’s right under Zayn’s finger tips, all broad shoulders and pale skin. His lips are warm against his mouth but Liam doesn’t take it any further than that because Zayn figures they might not be able to let one another go if it gets too heated right now.

He’s the first to pull away, but he clings to Liam. He nearly feels dependent but his senses are overwhelmed with the other lad, and it's all he can do not to grasp at Liam any more than he already is.

“ _Please_ be there,” he requests. “Just please be there and don’t be something my mind is dreaming up.”

Liam’s fingers press against Zayn’s chin, lifting his head up to find that Liam’s serious, all playfulness he’d had previous completely gone from sight.

“I’ll be there, Zayn,” he says. He’s determined, and Zayn even winces slightly when Liam’s fingers press against his face too tightly but he’d rather have that, rather have fingerprint bruises scattered across open skin than nothing there at all.

Zayn gives him one more glance before he pulls back, walking away from Liam as quickly as he can because he knows that if he thinks about it too much, he won’t want to leave, and his job requires he talk to the family. He knows he’d regret not doing it anyway.

There’s a rush of blood in his ears and several mumbled attempts at explaining how the surgery went, reassuring the family that everything went accordingly before he’s slipping out of the room and down the hallway. There’s technically not supposed to be any kind of running unless it’s involved with ER patients, but Zayn doesn’t care and ignores the few nurses that do shout at him as he makes his way down to his office.

When he opens the door, sure enough, Liam is there. This time instead of sitting in his usually spots as he’d done before whenever he’d been a ghost, Liam chooses to look out of the small window that Zayn has in the office. It doesn’t overlook much, but it’s a better view than some of the patients have, and it reminds Zayn of the first day they’d met, when Liam had been on the window sill at home, covered in sunlight while staring down at the street.

Zayn’s positive that Liam can feel the warmth of the sun now.

Liam doesn’t move from his position to walk over to Zayn, and he doesn’t have to because Zayn makes sure his office door is locked first before walking over to Liam. He’s leaned up against the wall on his side so that Zayn can still view his face, but that’s not what he takes in first.

He’d seen the wings in the waiting room, of course, but now he can see where they protrude from Liam’s back, right in the middle of his shoulder blades.

“You had to cut your shirt?” he asks, lifting a hand up to touch the material.

Liam doesn’t startle though, just turns to Zayn and smiles. “Yeah, it’s the only way unless I don’t wear a shirt.”

Zayn raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment other than that.

“As fun as that sounds, people can see me now,” Liam explains.

“Really? What about the wings?”

Liam makes a face but points over to Zayn’s coat rack. “I’ve been wearing something over them. You should’ve seen the first time someone saw me. I think they thought it was a Halloween costume until they realized that they actually moved.” He shudders at the memory because he hadn’t been sure whether or not people could see him and that experience, complete with open screams, only confirmed it.

“You can’t make them disappear? Like invisibility or something?”

“Yes and no. It’s something I haven’t figured out yet and try as I might, they won’t go away. Fun to look at, but hard to keep out of sight.”

They’re of a blue hue, not too dark and not too light, a grand mixture that gives off a nice light gray color. They move of their own accord as Zayn studies them, and they’re quite large too, definitely expanding a couple of yards or two if they were completely outstretched. As of now, they’re tucked closely to Liam’s back, but they ruffle every once in awhile.

“They’re beautiful,” he says.

But Liam doesn’t necessarily agree with that. It’s not that he hates them; they’ll just take some time to get used to. “Would it be bad if I said you were too?”

Color invades Zayn’s cheeks but he’s just too happy that Liam’s here in his office again, that they’re able to touch, and that they’d finally kissed. He hopes there’s more of that and soon.

“I should be serious now.” Liam still doesn’t push away from the window but Zayn does take a seat in one of the chairs in the room to give Liam his space.

“You’ve got a bit of explaining to do.”

“Apparently I was always intended to become an angel,” Liam starts off saying.

“I told you.”

Liam looks at him sternly but it’s nothing too serious because he can’t keep a straight face. “Don’t interrupt.”

“Sorry.”

“And I was right about my reason still on earth, why I became a ghost and all that. Something I hadn’t done was keeping me behind, and I had to figure out what it was, and with your help, I did. Granted it took us weeks to figure it out, but ultimately it was you.”

Zayn looks put off the next second, like what Liam's saying is just for the sake of it. “I’m just me, Liam. I don’t know what I could’ve done to make you stay behind. Shit, that makes it worse knowing I was responsible-”

“No,” Liam says darkly. “No, it wasn’t’ your fault in the way you think it was.” He finally pushes off the wall and sits in the seat opposite of Zayn, leaning forward and peering at him through his eyelashes. “You thought you killed me, Zayn. That was the reason I stayed behind.” Reaching out his arm, Liam grasps Zayn’s hand in his own who only allows it to happen. “I needed to tell you that it wasn’t your fault, and that I loved you. According to sources we’re star crossed lovers, bit of a legend too for going against what was planned, though all I can say to that is the universe was on our side with that one.”

It’s a bit of a weird explanation, but one nonetheless, and Zayn’s not too sure he even wants the entire truth anymore. It’s not that Zayn thinks he can’t take it, or handle it even, but what does it matter when everything seems like it’s right all of a sudden? The only questions left unanswered pertain to Zayn himself, and he’d be a fool to think that asking wouldn’t be selfish.

He asks anyway though.

“What does this mean for us then? Your parents, everyone you knew before?”

That’s when Liam holds back, gets a little quiet and the light around him dims slightly. “About that…”

And Zayn’s heart sinks because of course this isn’t going to be anything good. Nothing great ever comes about when everything anyone knows is completely flipped upside down by new actualities.

“I can’t see them again, my family. No matter how much I want to; I can protect them, you know, guardian angel after all, but that’s about it. It’s only you, Zayn. You’re the only connection I have left,” he briefly pauses, squeezes Zayn’s wrist. His brown eyes are filled with concern and maybe a little apprehension though Zayn doesn’t know what for. “But only if you want that. With me, I mean. I’m asking you now so I know.”

Zayn’s brows furrow, and he mulls over what Liam’s suggesting, that he’s giving him a way to leave without damaging what they have left. It’d mean Liam disappearing from his life forever like he’d done once before, and the thought alone has Zayn’s heart in a frenzy.

“You’re staying here on earth.” He manages to wiggle his wrist free of Liam’s grip so that he himself can take Liam’s hand in his. “As long as I have a say, you’re not leaving again. Never.”

And the decision is made because Liam glows, wings fluttering just a bit, which only makes Zayn’s heart flutter in his chest, stomach doing somersaults too. However in the next couple of seconds there’s a knock on Zayn’s door and a voice asking him about attending to another patient, and Zayn knows that this is his cue to let Liam go for the rest of the day.

“You’re not, uh, you’re not confined here, are you? I mean, you’re free to leave the hospital, right?”

“Yeah, just. I’m normal, but I’m not. There are some precautions.” One of Liam’s wings expands further than the other as a clear indication of what he’s talking about. “But other than that I’m free.”

Zayn bites his lip. “I’ve got to go… again. You’ll stop by?”

There’s a little something in his eye that Liam instantly picks up on, and he grins. “I’ll stay too, if you want.”

Zayn leans forward to press a light kiss onto the side of Liam’s mouth. “Trust me, I want.” He then leaves with a knowing look in his eye, only glancing back at Liam once before he’s off to do his job, and he swears he feels so much better than he has for months now. And he’s missed this, this feeling that burns deep within him, the way it saturates him inside and out completely. He’d been sure of very dark days ahead of him for god knows how long, but now it’s shifting into something completely different.

The future he thought would look so dark is slowly clearing to make room for the sun.

x.x.x.x

“Maybe we should take this slow?” Zayn offers as Liam fumbles with unbuttoning Zayn’s shirt. Zayn had already managed to discard Liam's quickly enough and while he'd wanted to take his time and finally admire Liam, the other lad had been adamant on getting Zayn naked too.

Zayn eventually snickers though as Liam halts his movements, eyes widening until he sees that Zayn's just being light. It causes Liam to smile wide and finger the last few buttons on Zayn's tee.

"Okay, that's a no then," Zayn affirms.

“You want to?” Liam asks just to be sure, and Zayn narrows his eyes.

“I only suggested it for your sake.”

But then Liam’s got Zayn's shirt undone, pushing it off his shoulders until it’s a twisted mess on the floor. He gets in closer to Zayn’s space, mouth connecting with Zayn’s neck, causing him to groan. “We’re not going to last long.”

“Good thing we have plenty of time then,” Liam mumbles against the side of his throat. He trails kisses down the skin while also taking his time to suck because it feels amazing to be able to taste Zayn and know that his pulse is right under his tongue.

It’s life, and it’s something Liam thought he’d never get to feel again.

“Liam, oh god, you’re going to have to let up. C’mon.” Zayn pushes at his shoulder but that doesn’t stop the other male from attacking Zayn’s lips instead.

It feels great, and maybe too messy for either of their liking, but they don’t complain because now it’s about feeling rather than being too good in the sack.

“Bed,” Zayn finally breathes when Liam lets go of him. “Bed. Now.”

Liam smirks and takes Zayn’s hand in his before suddenly they’re on the bed, Liam resting on top of Zayn. He looks bewildered at first, looking around as much as he can given the fact that most of Liam is covering his view.

“ _What_ was that?”

“Rentaghost,” Liam snickers. “Complaining?”

Zayn thinks about it for a moment before he tackles Liam, causing him to lose his balance and fall back onto the bed where Zayn takes that opportunity to climb on top of him, pinning his hands to the side. His wings are squished and for a moment Zayn feels bad because maybe that’s got to be painful for Liam, but the other lad doesn’t complain, rather he looks impressed that Zayn’s caught him off guard.

“Actually,” Zayn begins, “Do you know how handy that’ll come in when we’re in public? Especially since people can see you. I can tease you,” he licks his lips and Liam’s breathe gets caught in his throat. His eyes are blown wide, and he’s listening intently. “Get you _really_ hard,” Zayn removes one of his hands that had been holding Liam to the bed to trail down his naked chest, drawing imaginary lines before using his thumb to rub at one of Liam’s nipples. “And just when you can’t take it anymore, when you’re all flustered and red with embarrassment, that’s when we’ll disappear.”

Liam groans, “Fuck, I had a good feeling about you, Zayn. All nice and professional at work, but straight up filthy in bed.” His eyes are sharp and daring, but Zayn only smirks.

“You’ve no idea.”

He runs his hands down the rest of Liam’s body, unbuttoning his pants before sliding them off the other lad. His boxers don’t last long either before they’re off and the only thing left between the two are Zayn’s pants, which he’s decided to keep on himself for now in favor of wrapping his hand around Liam’s cock.

“Shit,” Liam mumbles, staring down at Zayn as he works his hand over the shaft, messing with the foreskin before pulling it back and pressing a finger against the slit. Liam’s breathing is hard, and while Zayn might’ve waited for some kind of verbal confirmation that this feels good, Liam’s hip push up into his hand, and Zayn takes that for what it’s worth.

He dips his head down, tongue darting out to lick the tip of Liam’s dick before taking the top into his mouth. Liam groans, which only extends further as Zayn inches his mouth down, taking in as much of Liam as he can. When his mouth is stuffed, knowing he can’t take Liam any further, Zayn uses a hand to work the base. He hollows out is mouth ever so slightly to suck and bobs his head to add to Liam’s pleasure.

Zayn doesn’t blow Liam for as long as he’d like because then Liam’s fingers are running through his air and gripping it tightly.

“I’m going to cum if you don’t let up.”

Which has Zayn pulling off quickly and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while he stares down at Liam with a grin. “Okay?”

“More than okay,” Liam answers. His hold on Zayn’s hair loosens so that his hand trails down to his arm, gripping it and tugging. Zayn follows him, moving up Liam’s body until he’s near his face, staring down at Liam with a fondness he’s grown to adore. He’d like to lean down and feel Liam’s lips against his, knowing he’ll never get tired of the feeling as long as he lives, but he hesitates at first until Liam gives him a weird look and surges forward, licking into Zayn’s mouth where he gets a faint taste of himself.

When he pulls back just enough to bite at Zayn’s lip, that’s when the other lad tells him, “I didn’t kno-”

But Liam bites down enough for Zayn to wince but not cause blood. “I want it all with you.”

Which is the last barrier the both of them need before Liam’s flipping them over with his strength and pinning Zayn to the bed as he had been before.

“Now,” he smirks, “if you’ll let me, I’d like to fuck you into the mattress.”

Zayn groans and palms at himself over his jeans. He’s hard and it’s definitely uncomfortable, but then Liam’s there, helping take them off before he’s just as bare.

Any other time Zayn would probably be worried about covering up. He’s got a few tattoos he’s positive Liam hadn’t seen before, and well, the fact that he’s actually hard in front of him too might’ve been a cause for concern, but Liam looks rather fascinated with all of Zayn. His eyes drink him up, roam over every inch of skin presented to him. Zayn’s definitely put on the spot but he doesn’t feel overly embarrassed, more intrigued that Liam seems to think he’s the world.

“I’d let you keep staring, but then I’d have to jerk myself off, and as far as I know, I didn’t agree to that.” Zayn reaches down to wrap his hand around his member but before he can Liam’s reflexes kick in, and he stops Zayn from touching himself.

Instead he drops the hand to grip Zayn tightly in his fist. Zayn hisses at the contact, but it feels good. Liam’s hands are rough, calloused and warm, where ends up pumping Zayn a few times just to get him worked up before he’s pulling back.

“Where is everything?”

Zayn has to think for a moment to put into context what he’s asking before he gestures over to one of his dressers. “Condom and lube are in there.” He feels the bed shift and Liam digging in the drawer before the weight returns, but Liam doesn’t move over to start anything, and for a second Zayn thinks that something’s wrong. “What is it?”

His tone must give something away because Liam shakes his head. “Nothing bad, I promise. I just… I wanted to ask you something.”

Zayn squints one of his eyes, showing that he doesn’t understand. “Now?”

Liam pushes at his leg but grins nonetheless. “Yes, now. How would you feel if we didn’t use a condom?” He bites at his lip all nervous like before adding, “If you don’t want to that’s fine.”

“Have you been with anyone else?” Zayn asks, considering it.

Liam pauses before trying to hold in a laugh. “The past couple of months, no.”

Zayn snorts. “Be serious.”

“I ask because I’m an angel, Zayn. I don’t-I’m not going to contract anything... I mean, that’s not saying _you_ have anything, but even if you did, it wouldn’t be a bad thing because I couldn’t, you know.”

Zayn reaches up and puts a hand over Liam’s mouth, silencing his rambling before Zayn gets a knowing look on his face, and quietly moans. “You’re serious?” He then drops his arm and waits for Liam to answer because how fucking fantastic is it to have an angel to hold, let alone sleep with who just so happens to have a healing gene?

“You asked me to be. If you still want-”

“No,” Zayn states quickly. “God no.” He quickly lies back down on the bed and pokes at Liam. “Now c’mon before I get soft.” So Zayn watches as Liam fumbles with the bottle of lube, using that to slick his fingers while Zayn spreads himself so Liam has a clear view of his entrance. While waiting, Zayn wraps a hand around his own member, hand stroking his cock lazily. It takes all but a couple of seconds for Liam to finally settle in between his legs, petting Zayn’s thigh with his hand before one of his fingers makes contact with Zayn’s hole.

It’s cold, which causes Zayn to squirm at the initial contact but when Liam doesn’t let up, he eventually settles down until Liam’s pushing a finger in him, all the way down to the knuckle.

Zayn expects a brief amount of pain, maybe a twinge since it’s been quite a while since he’s done anything with anyone else, but he feels nothing of the sort, just Liam’s finger as he moves it around before adding another inside.

It feels nice, nowhere near as good as how he'd like to feel, but Zayn knows that once Liam’s fully pushed in him, there’s no way that he’s going to be able to last long. So he enjoys this. He savors the feeling and the motions of his body pressing down onto Liam’s digits, how Liam’s staring intently at him, gaze defined with clear want, body covered in a faint amount of sweat, and cock hard against is belly, dripping pre-cum and aching to be touched again.

Liam eventually adds another finger, working Zayn to the point where he’s panting for Liam to do something, to add more, to fill him up completely with what he wants.

“You sure?”

“ _Fuck yes_ , I’m sure, Liam.” And with that, Liam pulls his fingers out, slicks up his own cock with a good amount of lube before his positioning himself over Zayn again. He reaches his hand down to align his dick with Zayn’s entrance, now slightly puckered and pink from Liam’s care, before he guides himself in, watching as he slides in with ease. Zayn groans as soon as he feels the tip of Liam enter him, which only intensifies the further he pushes in.

When Liam bottoms out, balls and thighs pressed up against Zayn, he waits a moment or two for Zayn to settle himself, getting used to the feel and thickness that makes Liam. His eyes, as hazel as they are, are nearly black with desire and his tongue feels heavy in his mouth.

“You can move now,” Zayn says, wiggling his hips just the slightest bit to give Liam incentive to do as he asked.

Liam obliges, pulls out before pushing back in. It’s slow and tantalizing because it just feels so good to have Liam pressed so close against him and even better that he can actually feel Liam inside him too.

As Liam works to find a decent pace, Zayn wraps his legs around Liam’s lower body. He ends up pushing Liam further into him, angled just a bit differently than before, chests nearly pressed up against one another.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Liam grinds out. His senses are overwhelmed, and he thought he’d be a lot more prepared for something like this but Zayn’s managed to capture a part of Liam he’s rarely let loose.

“Good,” Zayn breathes. He leans forward to suck on Liam’s neck because it’s right there in view, and it looks amazing flushed, veins showing up every once in awhile when Liam uses his strength to push in and out of Zayn. “But if you don’t start _moving_ , I’m going to flip you over and ride you.”

Liam whines but does as Zayn’s asks. He’s completely whipped as far as he can tell, but that’s okay as long as they both get what they want. He’s sure he’ll do pretty much anything for Zayn. “Fuck, don’t tempt.”

“That turn you on?” Zayn mumbles against his neck. Liam’s found a better pace by now, pounding into Zayn and causing the bed to shake. They’re both a little breathless, more so Liam because he’s doing most of the work, but Zayn makes up for it with his tongue and the way he trails it up the side of Liam’s neck to his ear where he bites at it.

Suddenly, things shift, and Zayn’s being lifted up by Liam unexpectedly. He doesn’t pull out but only switches their position by Liam sitting on his legs with Zayn in his lap. “ _Don’t_ ,” he says darkly, “tease.”

Zayn finds it in him to smirk but Liam gives him one better by bucking his hips upwards once which nearly causes Zayn’s eyes to roll into the back of his head because of the angle of Liam’s dick. It’s brushing right up against that bundle of nerves inside of him, and Zayn has to try hard not to grind any further down on Liam in fear that he’ll come too quickly.

They’re pressed so close to one another now which gives Zayn the perfect opportunity to kiss Liam directly on the mouth, running his fingers into his hair and tugging. He swivels his hips, helping Liam out with his own form of thrusting; his cock is trapped between their bodies, but the friction from rubbing stimulates him all the same.

It’s overwhelming, and Zayn eventually has to grab on to something just to keep his balance. His hands circle around Liam’s chest and under his arms so that he’s able to hook himself there, nails digging into Liam’s back. As he does so, Zayn’s briefly forgotten all about Liam’s wings until one of his hands comes in contact where the skin and feathers meet, and when he brushes up against them again, very carefully this time to see if Liam notices, he does by emitting a rather loud moan.

Zayn quirks an eyebrow noticing the way Liam’s slowed his pace, and is now staring intently at Zayn.

“You can feel them then?”

Liam nods once before Zayn’s brushing his fingers against some of the feathers again. Liam’s stopped moving by now, sitting still with his chest rising and falling rapidly. It’s a chance to catch his breath but that doesn’t happen because as Zayn keeps on running his fingers over the new part of Liam, the more the pleasure returns.

“That feels good,” Liam groans, and Zayn thinks he might’ve just discovered one of Liam’s kinks.

“How good?” Zayn decides to ask, tilting his head slightly. His fingers are still buried within the base of the feathers, but he travels up slightly. There’s no way he can reach the entirety of the wing, but he’s able to play with the good amount that he does have near him.

Liam swallows and closes his eyes. “You’re teasing again.” His voice is nearly choked, and when Zayn decides to actually tug on some of the feathers, Liam’s eyes snap open and there’s a whole new look in his eyes.

Zayn takes that as his cue to lift himself off of Liam’s dick ever so slowly before pushing himself down again, and as he does it, his fingers stay intertwined with Liam’s wings. He eventually picks up the pace once more while Liam thrusts too, and they’re both working hard to reach their climax.

Noises fill the room, skin on skin and filthy moans from the both of them. They know that won’t last much longer which is why when Zayn feels his edge coming, he tells Liam as such, connecting his lips to Liam’s and exploring his mouth, hands still digging into Liam’s back and one of his wings. Liam fucks into him harder while Zayn meets him half way, nearly bouncing on his lap.

“M’close,” he sighs, and Liam expresses that he is too, and just when Zayn thinks he’s going to be the first one to spill over first, Liam beats him to it by cuming deep inside Zayn, buried balls deep, down to the hilt. His wings expand and stretch as far as they’ll go, and Zayn’s positive he’s never seen such a beautiful sight.

With a few more lazy thrusts on Liam’s part, and with the way Zayn keeps riding Liam, he eventually cums between their bellies, spilling spunk across their sweat-slicked skin. It smears as Liam jerks his hips, helping Zayn ride out his orgasm.

When both Zayn and Liam feel like they can’t hold themselves up any longer, Liam gently pulls out of Zayn. It doesn’t hurt as badly as he would’ve imagined given the fact that they’d been more than a little rough, and instead of anything of the sort, he just feels empty and wonders if Liam’s new powers have somehow affected him also.

As Liam lays him down on the bed, he can already feel the wetness of Liam’s cum leaking from his hole, but he feels too good to put up a fight about it, not even asking Liam to get him something to clean himself up with just yet.

Zayn feels sated and warm and waits for Liam to join him by his side.

“You okay?” he asks in a soft tone, petting at Zayn’s hair that’s managed to stick to his forehead. When Zayn glances up, he finds that Liam’s staring at him fondly.

Zayn only nods though, too blissed out and covered in spunk and sweat to do anything else. His cheeks are more than a little pink while his eyes are alight and clearly dazed. “Brilliant.” He gives Liam a lazy smile.

“We need to clean up,” Liam says as he moves over to Zayn’s side. The other lad just lays there with his eyes close, completely sated.

“Not yet. Please not yet.”

Liam makes no noise of protest, but Zayn ends up opening his eyes when he feels Liam settle into his side, body nearly curling around him. His head rests on Zayn’s shoulder while their legs somehow end up intertwined too.

After awhile of laying there in each other’s presence, their breathing eventually evening out. Zayn moves his head as much as he can before pressing a kiss to Liam’s forehead, and it startles the other lad. Zayn figures he must’ve been close to sleep, and he can’t help but smile.

Although he feels like a right mess now, body sticky with both Liam and his own cum, sweat now settled into his pores that will probably have him regret waiting so long to take a shower, he can’t help but not want to move. His hand finds its way into Liam’s hair, gently running his fingers through it, and the soft lull of his breathing is what makes Zayn yawn.

Liam’s wings have also settled now. They’re tucked in closer to his body although he realizes that one of them is curled around Liam’s lower half, gently brushing up against one of Zayn’s legs. It’s like a mini cocoon, and maybe he should freak out over the fact that Liam’s not entirely human, that maybe what they’d just done wasn’t what they should’ve, but he can’t help but feel different. And it’s not a bad different either. Everything feels right, a completely new feeling than it had been the past couple of months without Liam and something strong like it’d been when Liam was here before. Except now, Zayn gets to hold him, gets to touch him and feel him.

One of Zayn’s arms eventually wraps itself around Liam’s frame. He’s quite large, bigger than Zayn himself, but he makes it work regardless because the only thing that matters is that Liam’s actually here now; he gets to stay and take care of those he’d worried about in the hospital. He’s visible to those around him with the invisibility intact – granted, it being a work in progress - if he needs it. And while there’s a stab of pain because Liam won’t get to have some of the luxuries of before, such as seeing his family again, Zayn’s determined to be that for him, to be a constant in his life to make sure he knows that he’s never going to be alone again.

Liam may be a guardian angel now, but if there’s one thing Zayn hadn’t forgotten, it’d been their conversations when Liam was a ghost, how terrified he’d been, and it just makes Zayn all the more appreciative, reflective too, on how weird his life has so far turned out to be.

“You know how I told you once that I felt like everything felt perfectly normal to me, you know, being with you felt like it was supposed to happen?” Liam whispers against Zayn’s shoulder. It startles the older lad, but he settles down and tightens his grip on Liam.

“Of course, I haven’t forgotten anything you’ve told me.”

“We were meant to meet actually,” Liam continues. His arm snakes around Zayn's body so that they're both completely wrapped around one another, not just for comfort but for the ability to finally touch something so real.

“It was planned for you to become a ghost?”

Liam shakes his head before shifting upwards so that he can better see Zayn. “No, that was a glitch, actually. They didn’t deny me when I asked to come back here. In fact, they insisted Zayn, because even in death we found one another.” He chuckles lightly before adding, “That sounds really stupid, doesn’t it? Really cliché. Destiny and all that stuff.”

“Are you telling me that after everything, that’s the one thing you _don’t_ believe in?”

Liam thinks about it for a moment but he only shrugs. “I believe in you,” he answers. “And that’s all I need. That’s all that matters.”

Zayn doesn’t get choked up about many things. He’s probably cried more these past couple of months than he has in his entire life, but this does it for him, makes him nearly come undone because he’d rather take this stupid, cliché, over-the-fucking-top redundant kind of love than anything else.

Through a cracked voice, Zayn speaks up again. He should probably keep his mouth shut by now, given that he has what he wants, all he’ll ever need, but he’s more than greedy and feels like he has every right to be.

“What about later? I just… I think I’m worried, Liam. Is that wrong?”

Liam shifts, causing Zayn to pull back his hands that were still draped over Liam's body. The other lad moves to his side, lifting the upper half of his body with an elbow so that he can see Zayn clearly, speak to him with impossibly innocent eyes and gentleness. Liam can tell how much this means to Zayn, and if he only knew how much it meant to him too, he figures he wouldn’t be too upset. “Shhhh,” he whispers, “It’s taken care of.” He presses his lips against Zayn’s, pulling back only slightly to further express his thoughts. “I promise; it’s taken care of. I trusted you with my not-so-human life because I asked for your help, and now I’m asking you to do the same.”

Zayn bites his lip, chewing on it between his teeth before he lets it go with a small smile. “This is going to make life so much more interesting, you know that right?”

Liam scrunches his nose. “Right, says the human who isn’t walking around with a pair of wings on their back.”

Zayn snickers but reaches out for the wing closest to him. “They’re nice actually. I like them. They’re very you.” He pets at it softly as Liam settles back down onto the bed, resting his head on the pillow directly next to Zayn, never moving away from him in distance after having already experienced that long enough.

They lay in bed together silently, darkness eventually washing over the room after the day’s events, where both of their breathing settles down to the point where they fall asleep, and if Zayn dreams of the beginning, well then he keeps that to himself because when he wakes up the next morning his nightmare no longer holds any kind of significance to his life because Liam’s still beside him. He’s curled up around Zayn, chest rising and falling with every breath he takes, something Zayn hadn’t gotten to see before because ghosts are none living. His wings are a bit haphazardly placed about, one nearly blanketing Zayn while the other lies still against the bed.

And it’s a sight; it’s a feeling; it’s a touch, and it’s a love that Zayn can’t wait to drown himself in every day for the rest of his life.

No matter how unconventional it is.


End file.
